The Easter Mouse

Cayla thinks the twins’ Easter baskets were brought by a mouse; one of the mice that lives in our apartment. (Don’t worry. We are fine with mice. We share our house in Michigan with bats, mice, and even a family of squirrels, last summer. Squirrels = bad. I don’t recommend sharing with squirrels – they are loud, destructive, and leave poop and pee (eeeeewwwww!) everywhere. The bats we let outside when we encounter them and the mice we set traps when they start to get too bold or numerous. Actually, the bats may be gone. We paid an obscene amount of money last year to have a very nice man surround our sophets with screen and install one-way doors. This is the same man who helped the squirrel family to evacuate (keep your fingers crossed). However, I’m sure the mice will never leave. But, I digress.)

Here in Boston, the exterminators have visited our apartment twice now. They’ve set traps and filled holes with foamy stuff. However, I doubt one can ever rid an entire apartment of mice. And in Cayla’s mind that’s a good thing, since she’s convinced that a mouse brought her a basket full of candy. When Collin is asked where he got his Easter basket he’ll tell you, “The Easter Bunny!” And then a tiny smile will appear, he’ll look at you out of the corner of his eye and add, “You know . . . Grandma.” Not, Cayla – she sticks to her mouse story.