Legwarmers...

OK, so the unwelcome furry friend in the kitchen isn't leaving. We found out he has decided to take up residence under my sink. Monkey asked if we could please catch Mickey in a box & keep him because he is "soooo coot Mama"
We never picked up the icky disgusting glue trap because the hubby has decided to drown him instead!!
Won't that be fun?
"Oh joy, nothing like waking up to a floating rodent"
I figured I had to come up with a better way of gettin Mickey outta my abode. But in light of recent events I've decided that if The Hubby wants to take a shotgun to Mickey, I'll provide the shells. I know, I know, it sounds terribly harsh, but really he's gotta go. Mickey has crossed the line...
Do you know what he did?
He touched me!!!!!

Now, I know there's seasoned Supermoms out there who think I'm bein' a big fat sissy. And I happily agree, didn't I already state that Mickey is my Kryptonite???
That furry little thing skittered past my ankle & I flew on a chair & was sitting pretty on the table when The Hubby came to see why I squealed! Honestly, he couldn't get me down for a few minutes. I also cleaned off my appendage with some Lysol. Of course The Hubby has been laughing at me since my less then super reaction & I'm OK with that.
I've decided whenever I enter the kitchen, to wear legwarmers...and boots...& maybe a big fat snowsuit too.

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...