All Creatures Great and Small
One lesson I've learned in the past two months is country = critters. For fifteen years, I've heard stories about the creatures who have made their way inside, from the laid-back rat who, in 1990, casually sat atop the bread cart eating bread until Rob's grandpa killed it with a tennis racket, to the bat that my mother-in-law hit with a pillow and trapped underneath a trashcan before chucking it out her bedroom window onto the roof in the wee hours of the morning. I've heard the staccato sound of little chipmunk claws skittering between the walls and had the distinct pleasure (insert eye roll) of smelling them through the plaster as their little bodies decomposed. Of course, I wasn't A RESIDENT of the house when those events happened like I am now. At the very least, we will have mice. They're probably already casing the joint after smelling all the fruit loops my kids manage to drop and hide beneath the sofa. I repeat: WE WILL HAVE MICE. I k...