Bradley Brights

This morning I turned around while cleaning the kitchen and saw a brown furry back, little brown feet and a long tail scurrying around the corner into our front room. My first reaction was to get a pot so that I could trap him until James got home. But, in my hast to find something heavy enough to keep him in it (you never know how strong these mice are), the mouse got away. My next plan of action was to call James. Maybe he'd come and save my day. He was somewhat sympathetic trying to reason with me that everyone gets mice in their homes occasionally and that he would go and buy some traps after work today. For some reason that didn't make me feel much better. In the commotion, Thomas came out and told me that "The mouse is just going to his home." Again, not feeling much better about the situation. It's amazing how all of a sudden every dark nook and cranny could now contain a mouse just waiting for you to walk by so he can jump out and scare you, or run over your toes. Yuck. So now, I'm sitting here with my feet off the ground and the kids napping, patiently waiting for James to come home...in 5 hours. We are going to a friend's house this afternoon. I'm now very grateful for the invite. I'll keep you posted on how things turn out.