Vermin!

Growing up in a cookie cutter 1970's era ranch house, bugs and mice never really decided to call Delbert Road home. I do remember one occasion though, when I was much younger, finding a construction paper art project shredded to bits in a drawer. I showed my mom the art project and it was then the Kents discovered they had mice. No big deal. A couple of mousetraps later and witnessing my dad smash a mouse with a shovel, the mice moved out. About that picture of my dad striking a mouse with a big metal shovel...I'm not sure if that actually happened, but for whatever reason, I have that image in my head. Did it actually happen or was it all a dream?
Now I live in ye olde City of New York where cockroaches crawl, mice scurry, and rats race about. New York doesn't have alleys so there's no room for dumpsters and trash cans. Trash bags are piled on the edge of the street the night before pickup and that supplies vermin with something similar to a $6.99 Ponderosa all you can eat buffet.
I remember the first cockroach I saw here. I flicked on the kitchen light and I saw movement across the sink. It wasn't too big...just under an inch. That's nothing compared to the two inchers that will speed out from a pile of garbage as you're walking down the street. So I grabbed some Raid from the cupboard and showered the pest with an awesome spray of Imiprothin and Cypermethrin. Tim: One. The cockroaches: Zero. Well, since that initial battle, I've seen a few more roaches (less than ten to date) and those suckers are fast! One just can't catch them all.
Then it happened in May. We found a mouse and despite our best efforts to corner him, he was just too fast. We boobytrapped the house with glue traps hoping to trap the rodent. Mickey never returned and we assumed he headed to the Hamptons for the summer. Last month, I went to Fire Island and the night I returned, I sat on my bed exhausted. Out of the corner of my eye, a mouse zipped out of my room into the hallway. Normally I would freak out, but this time, I just thought to myself, "Oh. There's a mouse." Eyeing rats in the subway changes one's rodentia mindset I guess. I put out more glue traps believing more sticky snares would equal more caught mice. A couple days went by, then weeks. Nothing caught. I even replaced peanut butter for the bread crumbs I had left in the center of each trap. Still no mouse.
Then last weekend, I went to bed. Moments later, I heard some rustling coming from my closet. I thought, "What's the point? I can't catch him myself and he's smart enough not to go near the glue trap." Ten seconds later, I heard a high pitched squeal. I went to check on the trap, but it was not where I had placed it. There he was, this little (and cute) mouse who managed to just get his hind legs caught in the trap. With the incredible determination to free himself, he used his front legs to pull himself out of the closet toward my dresser. There was no way I was going to move that big dresser just to retrieve a dinky puny mouse. I picked up the glue trap, mouse attached, put it in a plastic bag and walked the bag down to the corner trash can. Farewell mouse. You won't be missed.

P.S. If I offended anyone by using a glue trap, I'm sorry. Well...not really.