Gus the Mouse

There is a plug-in you can buy at Bed Bath & Beyond that has changed the lives within Apartment 9A. It's called Riddex. It has worked wonders! We haven't seen a mouse or roach one since we plugged that thing in.

Until 2 nights ago, when I opened the cabinet under the sink and saw him. Sitting next to trash can, totally unbothered and in his own world. We call him Gus, like the mouse from Cinderella. He's a little pudgy, a little slow, and and completely uninterested in people. Which I am thankful for.

Over the next day, the roommates precariously peer into the cabinets any time we need to throw something away. No sign of his return for a day or so.

Leave it to me, to spot Gus.... again. At this point, I'm reminded of a quote, in the words of Home Alone, "Keep the change you filthy animal!" I shut the door. UGH. The roommates and I share in a grossed out moment and decide Joe, the super, will have to deal with this. I take one more glance into the cabinet and see he hasn't budged. I mean, I know Gus has a case of latharga (derivative from the word lethargic created by the Cindy Flora), but he seems really out of it!

That's when I realize, he's dead. (Those poison traps really work!)

RIP Gus.

Guess we won't be seeing you around the kitchen any longer.

Oh. My. Gosh.

Yes. This is another mouse story and probably the most dramatic. Reader Beware.

Last night, I had a fun catch up dinner at Dino with one of my oldest friends in the world and her younger sister. They were in New York looking at law schools for little sister. I got home around 10:30 and heard conversation towards Emily's room. I wandered back and before I saw Emily, I noticed Emily's rain boots. On her feet.

This was my first indication that there's an issue. A rodent issue.

I walked into her room and now had full view of the folding chair and box lid maze/trap in place to catch the mouse that was in her closet. Roommate Emily and her visiting friend Emily quickly filled me in on the mouse saga so far. I put my bag down, shut my bedroom door (in case there was an escape!) and grabbed the swiffer. Yes, the swiffer.

With deep nervous breaths, we prepared for attack. With Roommate Emily holding a box lid, friend Emily holding an empty trash can and me with the swiffer, we slowly started pulling luggage and bags out of the closet. After emptying all but one bag, we saw a glimpse of the mouse scurrying UP THE WALL to hide behind some wrapping paper. Goodness they climb walls!?!!?!?!?! At this point, we are mildly wigging out and decide it best to involve Joe, the Super.

Emily speedily found him and told him there was a mouse in her closet. He said, "Keep it!". Not the time for jokes Joe! After quick convincing, he was at the scene. Joe, cool as a cucumber and completely unphased, got on all fours and reached into the back of the closet. (Rooomate Emily, Friend Emily and I are all standing behind Joe armed with our weapons of choice, completely prepared to advance if our front line goes down.) We sensed a struggle in the back corner of the closet, Joe reached in further and the mouse flew out of the closet. With swiffers and trash cans flying, we screamed and retreated to the bed. We heard squealing from the mouse. And with a blink, the mouse was gone. Ohhhhh no. Where the heck did it go?

We look to Joe for answers and he grabs at his knee.

"Son of a b****", he says.
"Joe, what?? Where did it go????", we say as panic rises.
"Son of a b**** is in my pants", he calmly states in his heavy European accented english, as he begins to stand up.
"What are you talking about Joe! No, really. Where IS IT?", we all beg!

Joe stood up gripping the lump around his knee. Gave it a quick squeeze and then shook his pant leg out. Out falls the son of a b**** onto our hardwood floors.

We SCREAMED. I mean, really scream. There might have been a few tears also. It's a bit of a blur. After minutes of pure chills down your back wigging out, Joe picks up the enemy by its tail and casually walks out of our apartment.

Oh. My. Gosh.

Never in my life....

Mouse Trap

Remember this game? It's a bit of a contraption, but I sure loved it as a kid. Little did I know, I'd one day be living in New York City and would be experiencing my very own game of mouse trap. Unfortunately this is not my first run in with mice. In my last apartment on the Upper East Side we found a mouse. When we told our landlord, he showed up with his cat Simon and a litter box to fix the problem. Simon lived with us for about a week and we never saw the mouse again. Sadly, the mouse issue in Apt. 9A has been a little more involved. Last night I had another run in. This time, the vermin ran over my foot in the bathroom. I wigged out. So I thought, instead of letting this nasty little mouse get the best of me, I should find ways to play the game a little better. Here are my tips for Real Life Mouse Trap:

First thing you need in real life mouse trap are boots.

These Ugg Boots will do just fine! Don't you love the little puff.



Second rule is to stay clean!

Keeping clean is made easier with this chic and tidy $17

Method Free + Clear Bundle.


Don't touch the mouse! Not that you'd want to.

But if you must, use gloves. Like these
darling polka dot ones from Amazon!

This is all the positivity I could muster when it comes to this dang mouse. I do think those Ugg boots and Lily like gloves would make me feel better.
Mom? Dad?

For my little room, thats a lot of mouse!!

We all know New York City isn't the cleanest city. The city of lights? Sure! Home of Broadway? Oh yea! Mice and roach free? HARDLY THE CASE.

It started like any normal night. With my door closed, I sat on my petite twin bed, catching up on emails....ahem....facebooking.....when I saw a flash of movement towards my door. I look down. Skirting around the corner of my sisal rug, I see a mouse. A large gray mouse. In my room. In my TINY room. You can imagine my verbal response.

Before I could drop another 4 letter word, I was out of my room like a bat out of hell. Thankfully there was a roommate home. She advised me to call Joe, the Super. It's 10:20. Too late?

Never too late when there's a mouse in your room.

I call. Leave a message. Pace outside my closed bedroom door with my Uggs on and a broom in my hand. No word from Joe.

I call my parents. "There's a mouse in my room", I say in a sad resolved tone. "Oh no! Well we're in the drive through at Taco Bell, can we call you back?"

Click.

Still pacing outside my room. I decide I must face the mouse. As roommate LindsayAnn just pointed out, I am MUCH bigger than it. I should find comfort in this. She offers to be my wingman.

Gun's a blazing we stomp our way into the room, banging the broom on everything. Maybe it will scurry out of my room and into some other area of the apartment. One might say, "But then it's lost in your apartment!" My response, "Yes. That means its no longer IN MY TINY ROOM!"

We find nothing. Not even a twitch of my bedskirt.

Ah. Nothing left to do at this point. Guess I'll wait to talk to Joe the super tomorrow morning. As for now, I'm sitting still and quietly on my bed. Uggs still on. Daring that rodent to flee from my room...

****I just published this post when THE MOUSE RAN OUT OF MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's safely into the kitchen. Mice in the kitchen are equally, if not more, disgusting, but I can rest easily now. PTL.

sleep tight.