We were just a happy family like any other. We'd host parties...X-mas, Easter, Birthday parties, Guy Fawkes Day...Our friends would bring gifts of spirits and food, providing us with more than we needed. The excess Spirits, well, they were consumed within a two week period. The food, sometimes, went to the top shelf of the pantry. In England, the top shelf is where the best stuff goes. Top shelf wine! Top shelf crisps! Top shelf topless models every day in the bottom shelf paper.
Thus, party after party, the generous leftovers of our guests were accumulating on the 3rd shelf of the pantry. The "wine cellar" of snacks is really what shelf 3 became. Several vintages--and flavors-- of Doritos, pretzels, high end potato chips--Miss Vicki was rocking shelf 3--Smartcorn--or Smartpop? And, all anchored in there by big ol bag of Ruffles.
Every time you went into the basement pantry, the 3rd shelf of snacks made you feel good. If you too own a house, you know, the junk food party plunder shelf is almost as good as the extra wine you accumulate after a party. Except that the extra wine is gone in a week. But your wife doesn't know that you drank it, so, sometimes, you fill the bottle with water so it looks proper in the rack, until you can buy refills...
For weeks we walked past the shimmering bags of plunder on the third shelf, until five days ago I noticed that the entire 3rd shelf of glory had collapsed. In shock, I take a closer look and find the plastic bags that contained the junk were limp and empty, and resting on a bed of the finest crumbs you can imagine. I cannot even see the shelf because it is coated in a fine layer ground junk food and black bits. And BTW, what are the black bits? A GOOGLE search tells me immediately.
Black bits are MOUSE SHIT!
Yes, the black bits are mouse shit, and the finely ground, multi-coloured sand grain base is about 10 bags of junk food, eaten out from behind with tiny mouse teeth until the remaining frontal chips crumble and the bags collapses.
What shocked me was that the little offenders could eat the back out of a nacho bag, yet keep this facade structurally sound until they totally ran out of food and had to eat the structure. And, they did this with every bag. That is, eat from the back to maintain the facade, until they hungered so completely the whole thing crumbled.
The 3rd shelf of the pantry was done. A wasteland of crumbs and mouse shit. A place that made my wife cower, that made me question my place as the alpha male in terms of security; of perimeter enforcement. I am a fairly big human man. They must have known I was here. And that these little bastards had breached my domain, and breached my domain with extreme prejudice. Yet, they licked the bait off my traps.
Of course, we have mice. Mice who have eaten 17 kilos of junk food since the winter began. Mice who hidden themselves so superbly, that we did not notice them while we accessed our chick peas and dry pasta, our turmeric and our cous cous.
I have tried for the last three days to catch our little domestic parasites. I coated the traps with peanut butter. And what did they do?
After a few foiled attempts, over the last few nights, where the peanut butter bait and was licked clean off, I have devised a death configuration for mice.
My previous attempts to go by what the Internet suggested failed miserably. Tonight, I saw a mouse looking at me from it's superhighway of mouse access. I actually tried to grab it's tail, but just missed. But the mouse highway is huge. And I understand the mice that use it better each day.
It's about to become a toll highway. The toll for mice. DEATH!
So my little friends, I baited my traps with Blue Menu Peanut Butter from Loblaws. Only the best for you, my special little friends. But, look at my plan for you. I don't know why, but I have a good feeling about this configuration.
If this doesn't work. Glue is my next option.
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