So the other morning I was sitting at the kitchen table reading, when out of the corner off my eye I saw something move by the closet door. I looked over, and out runs a mouse. Ran out, ran back in. That night we set traps and 24 hours later found this in our crawl space:

We are hoping that's the only one, though we still have traps set up. It is really weird, though, that we had a mouse. This is the nicest place BY FAR that we have lived since being married (actually, since ever for both of us, I think, since our townhome is pretty new). We've lived in places that are 80 years old, and never saw mice.

So I, of course, expected Jason to dispose of our little friend. He's always been my big harry spider-getter. And once in a very old basement apartment we lived in, he came home to see a 3 ft snake lying in our living room. He bonked it on the head and threw it outside (and never told me about it for over a year, after we'd moved out, because he knew I'd make us move). But when I asked him to throw out the mouse, he was soooo grossed out. When it comes to blood, and apparently mice, he has a hard time. But I assured him that his man job of disposing of a little mouse corpse is a lot easier than my woman job of making babies.
And he did it. And this picture is not posed.