We apparently had a mouse.
Jen discovered the other day that the thumbs had been chewed out of our oven mitts, and there were little mouse turds in kitchen-towel drawer. So, with much yuppie hand wringing and “but I’m a vegetarian” temporizing, we purchased spring-loaded mousetraps. Set one yesterday in the drawer which had formerly held the towels (towels are in the washing machine).
This morning, victory. Dead mouse. Trap reloaded, replaced.
This isn’t even close to sporting.
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