Walt Disney had some SERIOUS issues...

I know I'm not the first to mention it, but just WHAT exactly is so appealing about a giant rodent that people will plan vacations and spend big bucks to go celebrate it? I like Disneyland as much as the next person (although admittedly it's been almost 20 years since I've been there and the thing I remember most was a GREAT stuffed baked potato that we had for lunch at one of the stands), but after my most recent adventure, I just don't get how Walt sat down one day looking for a way to get rich and decided to create a lovable mouse character. Where had he been? Had he SEEN how disgusting they really are? It's obvious that there was not information about the hantavirus back then. And can you imagine the risk of the virus there would be if mice were really as big as Mickey and Minnie?!

Anyway, now that the weather's getting colder (at least here in Utah), the mice in the area are starting to pick up and move to nicer digs, namely my house. We live out in the "country" in a neighborhood where all the lots have to be at least 1.25 acres, so we're pretty much surrounded by fields. We have cats outside, but they are apparently unionized and won't do their jobs to the best of their ability.

But I digress: the past few weeks we have seen mice in several rooms of the house, so I went shopping and bought the little poison bait bars to place discreetly in the rooms. I also bought a few glue traps, great little pieces of REALLY sticky glue that fold into little tents: in theory you place them against the wall and the mice, who LOVE hugging the walls, run into them and get stuck. Notice the emphasis on "in theory." What actually happens is that you place them against the wall, the mice run along the edge, take a sharp turn to go around the trap, and continue on their way.

The night before last I went to bed, and actually got to SLEEP (an accomplishment if you've read my other posts) without any sort of sleep aid. Life was good! Then I awoke at 2:45 a.m. to the very distinct feeling of having my finger gnawed on. For such little animals, their bite hurts like none other. I jerked awake, and then my poor befuddled brain tried to rationalize that it couldn't possibly have been a mouse, or any other type of animal, feasting on my finger. However, the throbbing then commenced so I blearily trudged to the bathroom to assess the damage. Hmmm... blood, and a tiny little gnawed-looking hole. Definitely a bite.

I washed it a million times, and then put a huge glob of Neosporin on it and bandaged it up. I wandered out to the kitchen and spent the next 30 minutes googling "mouse bite," "rabies," and "what was wrong with Walt Disney anyway?" I couldn't find answers that were as definitive as I'd like about mice and rabies, or Walt either. Some sites said there was no chance of contracting rabies, others said there were slight chances, others gave the encouraging news that "only 2 people in the U.S. have survived rabies once they've contracted the disease." Now that's cheery...

After spending the next 4 hours with a giant case of the heebie-jeebies (and again, NO SLEEP ** sigh**), I went to work. I decided that I'd feel much better if I went in to the Instacare and got the bite checked out. One hour and 1 freshly administered tetanus shot later, I've been assured that I will live...

Our house is now beginning to resemble the house on the movie "Mouse Trap," and I have decided to use the money I'm currently throwing away on my 401(k) to invest in an assortment of mouse-torturing devices.

The kids called me at work today to report the first victim: found in my bedroom trap. Ahhh... victory is so sweet! I may have him stuffed and mounted.