You've read about the Cliffhanger, heard of my battles with the Evil Empire. It is inevitable that The Invasion should follow, the continuing saga of me.
My house is an old semi detached. That means a limestone foundation and a shared wall. It also means lots of little nooks and crannies. Perfect for...., you guessed, Mickey and all his friends. That's right, mice, not a mouse, mice. I'm pretty sure he (or she) come from an extended family at least as large as mine.
These aren't just any mice. These are the Cirque du Soliel, gravity defying, acrobatic mice. They preform death defying feats of climbing to get to the top of my fridges, occasionally stroll out to enjoy some television with us in the living room and have inspired some truly Mariah Carey worthy shrieks.(and I live in a house of guys) No one has ever mistaken them for a ladybug. ( I love that story Esther)
Of course it is up to me to rid the house of these guests. Unfortunately, that isn't as easy as it sounds. Mice come where the food is. My housemates are varying degrees of pigs. That equals a never ending all you can eat mouse buffet. If you feed them they will come. Of course I have mentioned this but apparently they don't believe me. Obviously cleaning up after yourself is far more effort than dealing with a few mice. Especially since it will be me dealing with them.
Sometimes it is no fun being king.