EEEK!!!!

There's a mouse in the house.
Or, as my Scottish grandfather used to say, there's a moose in the hoose.
Actually, I never had a Scottish granddad.
I never knew any of my grandparents, which speaks something to my desire to be the world's best nana.
Have I mentioned that before?

Anyway, back to the moose.
It's probably not as cute as this one.
It probably has much bigger teeth and scary claws.


Jeff has been telling me for some time that he wakes up at night and hears scrabbling.
I put it down to an overactive imagination.

Until Thursday night, when we had put our tired selves to bed and were hunkering down for our long winter's nap.
All was quiet, except for the TV in the family room.
(Annie had shown up for the evening and outlasted us.)
Suddenly, we hear a "scratch, scratch, scratch" coming from the vicinity of my nightstand.
We couldn't believe our ears.
It was spooky.
Jeff leapt out of bed, (okay, lumbered) and stomped around to my side of the bed. The mouse (oh, please let it only be a mouse) was forewarned, of course, and was nowhere to be found. Although some major dust bunnies and apparently yummy-smelling candy wrappers were very revealing of some of my most shameful habits.
End of mouse story for the day, as we nervously fell sleep.

Last night, Friday, Jeff was watching one of the "Mummy" movies in the rec room.
I was ensconced on the family room couch watching "Friday Night Lights," my favourite show.
A sad statement in and of itself.
Jeff came running into the room, announcing that he'd heard our little friend again.
"Oh, good," I thought, "at least he's not in the house."
The little beggar had made a meal of my gourd from Peru, eating off some of the decorative corn. He also (why do I keep saying "he?") ate some of my instruments and left little turds in a box and on the TOP SHELF of the bookcase.
How do mice climb to the top shelf, tell me that!
He left a nice little pile of rice in the corner of the bottom shelf.
WHICH WE DID NOT CLEAN UP!

This morning the pile was gone.
Spooky.
And we can't find it either.
That was one busy little mouse last night.
Today, I spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning my bedroom (scary how dust accumulates when you're not looking) and buying mousetraps at Freddie's.

Look out, little mouse, your days are numbered.

Now, let's hope he doesn't find my chocolate stash in the spare bedroom!