To be honest, I'm wanting to cry just at the thought of killing it.

Well, then you should shoo it into a box or something. (Do you have a broom to do the shooing?) Then you can set it free outside or something.

Don't kill the little guy, P-C. Do the trap-it-in-a-box thing.

David, how's the wee noisemaker?

About how high could a mouse scramble up? I need to find a box tall enough.

Sunil, you can get one of those humane traps tomorrow.

Say, if we're talking about musicians we never should have liked I can casually mention making out with Leif Garrett...

David, how's the wee noisemaker?

Squawky, grunty. Her two most common names around the house these days are Fussa and Gruntalina. Still cute though! For at least fifteen minutes after she's just been fed.

About how high could a mouse scramble up?

They're fairly agile. I'm sure he could climb on your bookshelf and jump on your head. Or perhaps jump onto your face while you're sleeping. You'd better sleep under a mosquito net. Or possibly hook counterweights to your arms and set them to wave your arms around in your sleep all night long to fend off wee rodent attacks.

Best not to sleep at all. Get a badminton racket, hunch yourself in a corner and drive yourself mad with sleep deprivation muttering "three blind mice" under your breath and then screaming the part about cutting their tails off. That'll scare him.

Wow, I'm going to make a terrible husband.

And there are ways to get meece out of your heese that don't kill.

...or you know one of those humane traps.

They're fairly agile. I'm sure he could climb on your bookshelf and jump on your head. Or perhaps jump onto your face while you're sleeping. You'd better sleep under a mosquito net. Or possibly hook counterweights to your arms and set them to wave your arms around in your sleep all night long to fend off wee rodent attacks.

Hec is mean.

Once I woke up from a nap to find my cat walking on my head. Turns out there was a mouse between the futon and the wall, a few inches from my head, and my cat was walking all over my head trying to get it. That was the time I got rid of the wounded but still alive mouse. Unfortunatly, my cat didn't see me get rid of it, so he spent the next few hours franticly trying to find the mouse again.

I am on a bug hunt. Have been for a few days. We've got a bit of a moth infestation, it seems. The last several nights, I've murdered into the double digits. Catching them napping on the walls and ceiling is much easier than trying to squish them on the wing -- though they're deceptively slow fliers, they're agile buggers and they disappear eaily into the visual noise of a cluttered apartment.

Cash, I'm still blissfully on the other side of the Berlin Wall, as it were, but I'm also still nursing, so I'm probably not the best person to ask. I mean, I haven't needed a pad since the lochia went bye-bye.