I don't think I've ever mentioned it in the blog, but my friends over here certainly know that we have a major mouse problem. With six girls living in a flat, it's difficult to keep everything clean. There are dishes out, crumbs everywhere and treats galore for hungry little mice. That's a nice way of saying, I basically live in a dump. When we discovered the rodent dilemma, we bought mouse traps. They didn't really work, so we reported the problem to our resident managers, who put adhesive traps down throughout the kitchen. Sure, we've caught a few, but it's been a sticky mess deciding what to do with them after they land on the paper. Needless to say, we've been struggling. I recently faced the difficult task of taking the "next step." Here's what Kristin, my bunk buddie/London bestie wrote in her blog:
Sarah has just informed me that she killed another mouse last night.
In her words: i did. yeah, it was sad. i had just gotten into bed when i heard shannon scream. i walked out of the room and could hear the little mouse crying! his leg and the side of his body was stuck to the paper. he kept trying to pull his head up but he just made himself bleed. i felt so bad for him. i didn't know what to do, and i couldn't smash his head with anything, so i stuck in him the toilet and flushed it a couple times. he's in the happy mouse hunting ground now.
How traumatic. I have never been so thankful to be such a sound sleeper.
And, unfortunately, it was not the fatty that ran over my foot the other night, it was a little baby- probably the fatty's baby. Gross.
After drowning it, the girls placed him in a plastic bag and threw him out the window. Our neighbors are going to think it is raining mice- hell, maybe it is.
For those keeping track- the death toll in flat 5 has now reached 4.
I had nightmares for days.