An open letter to the mouse in our kitchen

Dear Sir/Madam,

Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the human who was sitting in the kitchen chair the other night when you decided to see what crumbs my sons dropped during dinner.

Yes, I’m the scary person who banged on the table so you would run back under the stove.

And I do need to thank you for running away, just as I need to thank my husband who came running to see why I was making so much noise while writing a blog.

Let me get to the point. You need to leave.

“Mouse-19-Dec-2004“. Licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/" title="Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0

“>CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

A few things for you to consider:

1. It’s gorgeous outside. Have you noticed? This is the best July weather Baltimore has ever seen. It’s barely humid, more like late April than July. You should stay outside where you can frolic and play in the sunshine.

2. Our crumbs aren’t that great. The neighbors have to be better cooks than I am. And besides, the gardens are full of delicious food. We even have two tiny green beans growing in ours. Help yourself. Leave my son’s bag of marshmallows alone.

3. Our little boy desperately wants to catch you and keep you forever as a pet. And, if he gets his hands on you, he will–at least until I scream, “GET THAT THING OUTSIDE!” I should have listed that as number one.

4. This is not a mouse-friendly household. My niece who lives out of town has three rats. They are elegant, delightful creatures, and we have great respect for mice and rats in the world. We just don’t want them in our house. But I am happy to provide her address if you are interested.

5. I am allergic to mice. Or at least that’s why our son thinks I get upset about the idea of having mice in the house. And chances are I am allergic since I have plenty of other animal allergies. Let’s keep this house mouse-free.

6. We aren’t just sending a letter. We’ve also left a few calling cards for you and your friends to find.