How Fitting...

When Covey and I first found our new apartment, we thought it looked like a castle.  This is mostly because it has a turret and the stone on the outside is in block type shapes, not to mention the balcony.  We then thought it would be funny to say that we were living in the dungeon (the basement) of a castle.

With that bit of introduction, I just wanted to say how fitting it is--living in the dungeon of a castle--that we have discovered MICE in our apartment.  That's right.  Mice.  

A few weeks ago, I was sitting on my bed and thought I heard some munching inside the wall.  I thought it was termites and so I had Covey listen as well.  He heard it, but thought it was creaks in the wall or something.

Then, about a week and a half ago, I opened a floor cabinet to get some flour out.  The bag was too heavy for me so I asked Covey to get it.  When he pulled it out, we noticed a hole in the bottom and Covey said he thought it looked like it had been chewed through.  As we looked closer, we found holes in a bunch of cereal boxes and bits of cereal strewn around the inside.  After pulling everything out of the cabinet, we found this:

A nice big hole for mice to come and go as they please into a cabinet full of food.

We were pretty mad about this and so we found a piece of metal and covered up the hole so the mice couldn't get in.  (And trust me, we knew that it was mice.  Little brown poops all over the cabinet floor are a pretty good indication.)  We cleaned out the cabinet, put our food back and went along our merry way.

Unfortunately, this was not the end of the mice.  On Monday morning, Covey opened up the cabinet under the sink (which is next to the cabinet where we'd found the evidence of mice) and found more little brown poops.  Lovely.  Covey actually went out of town on Monday until Tuesday night and when he got back I told him I'd found more mouse evidence in the same cabinet we'd found it in the first time.  So we went through the same motions and pulled everything out of the cabinet to see if we could figure out where the mice were getting in.  

We couldn't figure it out.  There were no holes we could find.  We decided it was time to get a mousetrap and kill the little food stealers.  So off to WalMart we went and bought a couple of mousetraps and baited them with peanut butter.

Then we built a barricade on the floor around the cabinets with all of our cleaning products and other things the mice probably wouldn't try to eat and set the traps.  (Covey also called our landlord to let him know about the mice, but we decided to take things into our own hands until an exterminator can come to our house.)

This morning, Covey opened up the cabinets, only to find that the peanut butter had been eaten and there were no mice in the traps.  Fantastic.  You know what that means:

THIS IS WAR! 

There will be casualties:

 Like this guy here.  He met his fate.  Die, mice!  Die!