Sometimes I wish I had a digital camera. Not terribly often, but I can tell that this tickling of a wish for one is going to grow. Kind of like the itch to get a cell phone...I resisted for a very long time and when I finally got one I realized I didn't want to live without one.

The camera would have come in handy today so that I could show you the little family of baby mice I uncovered as I rolled out a carpet pad that was their home. I take pride in being quite capable in most situations. I can read a map, change a tire, jump a dead battery, nail things, drill things, change electrical plugs and switches. But mice? Fuck that.

When I unrolled the pad enough to see telltale signs of a mouse (a cache of dog food and some fluffy nest-y stuff and mouse poop, eeeewwwwww), I jumped back, pulled up the cuffs of my jeans (so it didn't run up my legs!), jumped on the couch but then jumped down to open the sliding door to the deck (in case it would maybe just run outside and I could then safely close the door!) and then jumped up on the couch again looking for signs of life from the nest-y part. I thought I could see slight movement but the sick thing is that I could hear chirping. These were baby mice.

I did the only logical thing in this situation -- I ran next door and got my neighbor Joey. He was clearly watching football but he clearly had no way out of this. He came over and took a look, sort of jiggled the nest a little bit and a wee little mousey came stumbling out. Too young to run, poor little guy. I'll save you the play-by-play...they got cleaned up into a garbage bag and Joey took them away.

The mama is definitely in my house somewhere, and next weekend I'll set traps (I had no bait other than Cap'n Crunch cereal, soup, cheezits, and broccoli). I just hope Joey won't mind coming over again if I catch one.