I think we have mice in our house. I keep finding little singular mouse poops on our kitchen counter. When I told R that I think we have mice he said "oh yeah, I know." To which I had to query "you knew? why didn't you tell me?" I worry that my partner is a little too supportive of mouse rights. I understand he doesn't want to put traps out, but the day I find him hand feeding them Gruyere or asking me to knit them sweaters is the day I pack up and leave.
Over share? I'm taking a page out of Plantress's book and injecting some realism into my blog.
(Plantress is also R's mother and has had a bit of a mouse problem herself lately. You just have to love old houses with all their character).