The Worst Kind of Wake Up Call

So after my third mouse sighting on Sunday night, I finally broke down and bought mouse traps at Target yesterday afternoon. This was a big deal. I'm that girl who cries when she sees roadkill, so I kind of didn't want even to buy the traps, simply for fear that it would catch a mouse and I would have to see dead/it in the process of dying. I have a huge guilt complex, and as much as I HATE HATE HATE mice and HATE HATE HATE even more the fact that they're in my apartment (you can read about that here ), I knew that I would feel an enormous amount of guilt if I were actually responsible for killing one of them.

So we put out four glue traps last night around 10:00, and one poison trap (under the china hutch, where I KNOW mice have been, because they've chewed on one of the legs of my wonderful $80 Salvation Army hutch, arrrg) where I was 1,000% positive that Callie could not get to it.

And wouldn't you know, at 4:00 AM, we were awakened to this terrible shrill EEE EEE EEE EEEEEE cry that I knew could only be a mouse in a trap. Callie of course jumped down off of the bed and wanted to go see what this new noise was, but luckily for us, she's not the brightest bulb in the box, and when I called her in my high-pitched "good girl" voice, she jumped right back on the bed. I grabbed her by the collar, turned the light on, and spotted the mouse caught in the corner. YUCK YUCK YUCK.

Preston, DIVINE BEING that he is, took the mouse out to the trash. He did try to set it free, in his defense, but apparently the glue is pretty powerful (thank goodness, frankly). In MY defense, the glue does have an anesthetic in it, so hopefully the mouse wasn't feeling tooo much pain...I hope...

So that whole brouhaha took about forty-five minutes, and afterwards, Callie was nervous, and when she gets nervous, she likes to sleep RIGHT by our heads. This is not ok, and made it difficult to get to sleep till 5:30, and even after that, it was a fitful sleep till 6:30, when I finally got up and made chocolate croissants for Preston, my knight in shining pajamas.

On a non-mouse related note, the croissants were delicious, and super easy. I got it from the simplified recipe section of Real Simple (one of my favorite magazines), and it took all of five minutes to make (just take one of those refrigerated Pillsbury croissant tubes, put about 15 chocolate chips--Real Simple says 10, I think this is wimpy--on the top half of each, and bake at 375 for 10 minutes). I sprinkled some with cinnamon before adding the chocolate chips, and Preston voted those the best. I tend to put cinnamon on everything possible, so this is definitely the recipe we'll be following in the future.

Anyways, fingers crossed for NO MICE tonight. Also, on an entirely non-related note, Preston and I are about to watch Top Chef, one of our favorite shows, and I am also crossing my fingers that Spike goes home. I don't like him. And I make snide remarks at the television any time he says anything, so also for Preston's sake (who has to sit next to me while I bitch at the TV), I hope he goes home.