Every night before she goes to her bedroom, Esme says: "Keep the trolls and the mice and all the bad things out."

Every. Single. Night.

She's been doing this since last year when we had several unwanted house guests of the furry, four-footed variety. I'm pretty sure it started directly after my grand and comical flip out when one of the mice made its way from the kitchen into the living room. 

I've protected my daughter and her bedroom from trolls, mice and bad things... until now. 

Lately, a mouse family or two or ten have set up residence in our house. It started with scattered dog food on the basement stairs. I couldn't believe what a mess Kent was making every night as he scooped Uma's food from the bag. Every morning, I'd walk down the steps, see the food littering the stairs and curse him under my breath for being such a slob. 

Then I saw the tell-tale droppings. And a mouse in the kitchen late one night. And another during quiet time. 

I called the mouse guy the day I heard them scratching in the kitchen walls. ENOUGH!

I kid you not when I tell you that the first trap snapped less than 15 minutes after the mouse guy set it up. I literally jumped from my chair in the other room. Uma whimpered. Then another shortly after. By the end of the day, four (or was it five?) of the creeps bit the dust under the stove. Kent dubbed it the "kill zone..."

Read the rest at Feast After Famine.