Very much just another blog

Seventeen metres of gaffer tape and fifty-nine million mice

with 12 comments

Early this year we had mice. A whole entire family of them.

When the first one appeared my sister and I spent three days in wellies, which we gaffer taped up, unable to go into either of our bedrooms because that’s where we’d seen it. Actually we gaffer taped the doors too and then stood on a box outside phoning every man we knew within a five mile radius for help. You think I’m joking don’t you. So did they. I was not.

It wasn’t long before we realised there was not one, but many mice. Many, many, many mice. Nothing we did seemed to stem the flow; we chased one with a Hoover, we put poison in the humane traps. I know, I KNOW. It sounds mean but the fuckers wouldn’t die otherwise; they seemed to think that humane traps were some kind of fairground attraction to have fun in rather than die in. And we *really* wanted them to die.

A colleague at work was dismayed by my actions: please don’t kill the mouse, Elika, it has a family. Don’t misunderstand me, I replied, I’m trying to kill the WHOLE family. This is genocide.

For days we filled the poison trays and the gannets munched it up. Then one day we realised it wasn’t going as quickly anymore. I had images of the mouse family (extensive) sitting around their kitchen table discussing the fact that they have all been feeling a bit peaky lately. And the Daddy mouse says: OK, what have we ALL eaten?

For a while I thought I could smell the unpleasant smell of success in the airing cupboard, another part of the house infiltrated by the freaky little fuckers. But no and oh-holy-mother-of-arsing-shit, one night, sitting up in bed, a mouse, a huge fat mouse; a MAMMOTH of the mouse family, ran along the wall of my bedroom and behind a book case. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was naked. You can’t fight a mouse naked; you can only sit and hyperventilate. I was on Facebook when this mouse visited and at exactly the same time another terrible thing happened. I got a friend request:

Those Mice


The next day someone sent us a game of Mouse Trap; this was some kind of domestic torture.

You’ll be pleased to know that eventually we killed them all using a combination of poison, traps and a dropped desk (but that’s another story). My sister and I were talking about it the other day and how it wasn’t something we could go through again.

But they are back. Last night when I stumbled home and wandered into the kitchen, a mouse ran along from one side of a kitchen counter to the other. A. Fucking. Mouse. He’s at home now, just like he was before, feet up flicking through the Guardian, wondering what’s for supper. I don’t think my ticker can take it this time ‘round. Your support is welcome, or you could invite me for Christmas… could you?


Written by elikafm

December 22, 2009 at 1:22 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

12 Responses

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  1. I have a mouse story, involving a sticky trap, a tea-towel and a very heavy shoe. But it’s not really appropriate for public consumption.

    Adland Suit

    December 22, 2009 at 1:28 pm

  2. i’m at my sisters and we’re mouse free – never really celebrated that before now. if you can get urself to bristol, i’ll lay a place at the table for you


    December 22, 2009 at 1:35 pm

    • Thank you. I can’t leave though; the mice probably have some kind of squatters’ rights. Bastards.


      December 22, 2009 at 5:13 pm

  3. They taste just like Turkey. But cook a bit quicker.


    December 22, 2009 at 1:35 pm

    • I have decided simply to shoot them. There is no other way to ensure their demise.


      December 22, 2009 at 5:13 pm

  4. have you considered cat-atonia? rocking autistically back and forth generally rattles the little buggers and if that fails I could maybe loan you one red in tooth and claw.


    December 22, 2009 at 7:18 pm

    • Hello. Which Steve are you?

      And I am definitely rocking…


      December 22, 2009 at 9:43 pm

  5. I think you should get them all drunk….


    December 23, 2009 at 9:42 pm

  6. I have a cat. Three in fact. But you don’t want *my* help! ;o)

    Oliver Vass

    December 28, 2009 at 3:41 pm

  7. IPM Pest control 020 8368 8068 You will never see a mouse again. Warning- the bloke in charge looks like a rat and is Welsher then the entire cast of G & S

    Deborah Khan

    January 4, 2010 at 9:50 pm

  8. Stumbled across this, hilarious read. You’re a good writer.


    January 5, 2010 at 4:23 pm

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