There is a mouse in my house. Actually, this means there are probably MICE in my house, but the fact that there are vermin of ANY kind dwelling where I dwell is too much for me to handle. I wonder why Disney and Looney Tunes guy made mice into such sweet little creatures. Like the CATS and DOGS were actually crabby and bad, but the poor mice simply wanted a little something to eat. I also remember how much SMARTER the mice were than ANY other characters, and I'm afraid that is no different at our house. Luckily, I did not see said mouse, but my husband mentioned it last night. Why, you ask? Well he thought that since THE LAST ONE he got rid of without telling me (YES--there was ANOTHER), the problem was solved. When mouse number two went running by him, he knew he had to share the information. I'm sorry--I just had to throw up a little bit, but I'm good now. SOOOO GLAD he decided to share the info with me. I would have hated to go through life not knowing that there are creepy crawly things in my home. I'm not even sure where to go with this information. I mopped my kitchen floor for the first time...well, EVER, and I screamed at my children to pick EVERYTHING up off of the floor, but as I said before--they are pretty crafty. Maybe he will set up camp in the toaster oven.