Now, it seems funny, that last night before I went to bed I chose a picture of a rodent to accompany this post. At 2 am, I was woken up by a tapping noise close to my head. It sounded like a tiny animal was in the wall.
When I got up to check it out, I thought I saw something move near a suitcase on the floor, but thought it was my sleepy imagination. Then I remembered the snacks that were in the suitcase for an upcoming trip.
There aren’t many things I am actually, physically afraid of, but mice are one of them (snakes and heights are the others). I know it’s irrational, but when I see one, or even think there is one around, I feel afraid and can’t help squealing, whimpering and/or jumping up on a chair, just like the stereotype.
I flipped open the top of the suitcase and saw tiny yellow shreds from the package of an RX bar. It took me a few minutes of standing there staring at it before I could do anything. I squeamishly began taking everything out, hoping the mouse was not still...