If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

If you give a mouse a cookie...he just might decide to stay...and have himself a little par-tay.  That's the case of our recent uninvited house guest, Mr. Scampers-poo.  He was first spotted a month ago munching on a cookie on Sherilyn's desk [Sherilyn vehemently denies any role in giving Mr. Scampers-poo reason to stay].  In subsequent days he raided the pantry, leaving behind little 'presents' to let us know he appreciated us.  I don't think we returned the sentiment.

There were other sightings in following weeks, and just when we thought he had left, more 'presents' were found.  Out came the traps, but Mr. Scampers-poo was on to us.  More presents, but no Mr. Scampers-poo.

Mr. Scampers-poo is a sneaky mouse.  So sneaky that I had never actually seen him...until tonight.  He came dashing out of nowhere when I was in my parents' room, which erupted from me a scream, followed by me slamming the door and yelling for back-up.  He skirted into the closet, and I decided to go on a stake-out, flashlight in hand.  The plan was to put a waste basket over him.  And then what?  Good question. Brilliant, I know :)

The waste basket idea proved unsuccessful, but good 'ol dad stepped in.  My dad brought in the vacuum cleaner, which scared him out of hiding.  We had sealed all the rooms in the hallway, leaving him only one exit--the front door.  Mr. Scampers-poo didn't seem to want to leave, though.  (I suppose he knew our house was too much of a good thing)  As my dad tried to shoo him out with the vacuum, Mr. Scampers-poo stubborness proved to be his downfall...he ended up a victim of the Hoover.  Poor Mr. Scampers-poo.  And he was a cute mouse, too.

There's always something that ends up in our lives uninvited.  RIP, Mr. Scampers-poo.