On The Mouse That Ate My Breakfast: Taking Suggestions

When North Carolina temperatures dip, the old houses in Durham typically offer a crevice here or there for slipping in. And mice are kind of like sea cucumbers in the way they squish themselves through even the smallest vulnerability. We discovered Gus and Jaq last month. I was up late working on the manuscript when a suspicious looking critter with whiskers crossed the kitchen. So your resident blogger invested in $20 plug-in eradicators. (My old Classics professor swears by them). Touted as the humane alternative to snap traps, they supposedly emit a high frequency sound somewhat akin to what we'd detect as fingernails on chalkboard. But it turns out our squatters are pretty punk rock. Instead of giving up, they partied. This morning, I awoke to find my blueberry muffins had been plundered and pillaged, even though they had been wrapped up directly in front of the plug. Sans breakfast, ...