Another mouse story or two

So, quite a few years ago, I was babysitting in a relatively new house. While I was getting a juice box for Michaela, I noticed the mouse trap on the floor in the closet. I just sort of shrugged it off and thought nothing of it until I noticed a second one under the kitchen cabinets. "This could get hairy" I thought to myself.

Well...flash forward to a few hours later, while I was watching TV I heard a "SNAP", followed by a nasty screeching noise. Yes...you got it... there was a mouse in the trap under the cabinets. and...it was still alive... he had only been partially caught, so he was flipping around.

I didn't know what to do, so I covered it with a paper towel, and turned up the TV so I didn't have to hear it.

When they got home, I told them that they had caught a live one, and "good luck with everything". I was so not coming back.


A few years later-
I was living in my grandparent's house, alone... during the winter. It was an old house that creaked and popped randomly. There was a back room for dry storage, and a root cellar that no one ever used.
Now, I admit that I am a very brave person from 6am-until-10pm. After 10pm... I'm done, I'm a complete wuss.
I was up late one night, playing Slingo on the computer in the kitchen when I heard a noise in the back room. It didn't scare me, but it did bring my awareness to the movement going on in the room. Trying to ignore it, I went back to the game. Yeah, right. That's like your friend saying "Hey, don't look but, that guy has his penis out" I mean, you may not look, but it's all you'll think about...especially if you like penis...but I digress.
So, the noise... it just gets louder and louder. I can't really explain what it was, maybe a scratching and squeaking noise...but like I said...after 10pm, I'm a wuss. I left the computer on, grabbed my boots and went upstairs.
Why did you grab your boots, you ask? Well, the way I saw it, if something was going to get me, I was going to be able to kick my way out of it. I had a good kick back then. Also, if there was going to be a dead animal in the house, I wasn't going to step on it with my bare feet. (and I just didn't like the thought of something bitting on my toes.)
I got upstairs and did my usual routine- brush my teeth, pee, and barricade my door. yes, that's right, barricade my door. Each night, I would close my door and put books in front of it..so I would be warned if someone was coming in. I also slept with a wire hanger under the extra pillow. (I was 22, living alone, near Boston, cut me some slack) See, the wire hanger was to stun the would-be assailant... I would smack him around with the hanger and then go out the window to safety.
More digressing... sorry, so I get into bed and call my folks...

"Hey mum- can mice climb stairs?"
"No, Kris. Go to bed"
"Ok...good night"

and that was that.

So the next morning, I went and peeked in the back room and saw that something had gotten into the flour..there was flour all over the place. That's it. I never heard from the thing again. Well...not that thing. about 2 months later a raccoon got into the root cellar and made a pantload of noise. But I handled that well. I just locked the door- you see, I had the only key.