Mouse attack

You can only push me so far. 

I do not wish to offend any mouse advocates, but this gang from Franktown Road became more and more egregious in their attacks on my personal freedom. For most of the winter, I didn’t mind sharing my Toyota Highlander and taking them around town with me. For the most part, they stayed out of sight and seemed to enjoy my favorite country station.

Then I caught Mike sneaking out of my potato chip bag and Jimmy munching on my insurance card in the glove box. It became too much when 12 pink-eared faces looked up at me between my back seat cushions.

I posted a sign giving all of them one day to skedaddle. They were too busy doing urine artwork on my new car mat to comply. Sherry doesn’t approve of killing any living creature, so I was sneaky about all the mouse traps.

Next, I did a fabulous job throughly cleaning the interior of my vehicle. I even hung one of those pine-smelling little trees on my rear view mirror. I felt good, almost powerful, and very little remorse.

Lesson #1: Sometimes you just have to get tough.

Lesson #2: Practice acceptance. Yes, the mice are back.