This Is War

I went down to the laundry room this morning to grab a pair of panty hose off the drying rack. As I rounded the corner my sharp eyes spotted something on the rug. It was a mouse.

I turned the light on and it didn't move. I observed it from a distance and it still didn't move. It appeared to have its head buried in a fluff of lint. I slowly moved toward the mouse, just hoping it was dead and I would deal with it later. It stirred. I swore.

I went to the porch and got a bucket. The mouse was still in the same spot, in something of a stupor. I put the bucket over the mouse, grabbed my panty hose, and ran. I'll deal with it later.

I was okay with mice running around the old part of the basement, the place I only visit occasionally. But here, in my laundry room - out in the open in broad daylight ?

This is war.