Kryptonite

I can say absotively posalutely that people think I'm pretty tough. And I guess on the surface I really kinda am. But the truth is, I'm a big fat sissy. Why do I say this you ask, cuz I'm terrified of a creature no bigger than the palm of my hand....a mouse.
No, not a rat, a little ole' mouse.
The other day Bear came running into my room trying desperately to catch her breath & tell me she saw a mouse. I quickly concluded that she was a loon because there was just no way that a Supermom like me could allow such a thing in her home. With more than a hint of doubt in my voice I asked her to describe this "supposed mouse"
She then went on to describe a furry, gray, pink tailed invader.
And it was in my kitchen no less!! My haven, my sanctuary, the place where I play Susie Homemaker!!
I decided right there & then that we needed to move immediately, packing only the barest of essentials. The Hubby however frowned upon my splendid idea of gettin outta dodge.
He calmly set up a mousetrap while I researched "THEE BEST BAIT FOR....."
As he peacefully applied a bit of peanut butter I questioned whether it should be creamy or chunky? Should we add jelly? And maybe some bread too???
Now...get off the floor & stop laughing at me, I really thought with my awesome Supermom logic that if the P.B. was chunky the mouse would linger longer & SNAP!! Or if we added jelly then maybe the mouse would get stuck a little aaannnnd SNAP-O!!!
And, well....the bread, I got nothin.
So today, the animals thought it would be great dinner conversation to discuss the best way to eliminate Mickey. This is when The Hubby made a grave error. He concluded the most sure fire way to relieve our guest of his breathing ability was to to set a glue trap.

EEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK, again....EeeWEeeweweeeweEEEEEWwwwEWWeEEAAAHHAHHAHAHhhahhhahah!!!!!!

I had all these terrible visions of walking in the kitchen to find Monkey poking at a dying mouse with one of her My Little Ponies. Trust me, it's a strong possibility. So, I quickly told The Hubby it wasn't the least bit possible because I would sooner set the house on fire then have to pick up a wriggling dying & probably ticked off mouse regardless of whether it's "glued" to a piece of plastic or not.

You see this is where all my Supermom abilities go right out the window. This mouse is my Kryptonite.
Can't....fight....getting...dark.....feeling....weak...

I thought maybe it's time for a sidekick, SuperKitty perhaps?? For now though, The Hubby is dragging me, cape & all to the nearest Super Hero store...a.k.a. WalMart to buy...you guessed it...a glue trap. UGH...