Almost a year ago I wrote about the terrible mouse incident.

Last night I was playing a game in my office and heard Carrie out doing something in the kitchen. When I finished up, I went out to see what she was doing but she wasn’t there, though the sound she was making continued. The sound of her eating apples. I saw that the baby monitor was on, so I turned it off, and the sound stopped.

As I was heading out of the kitchen, I heard the apple eating sound again. I immediately suspected invasive animal activity and crept back to the center of the kitchen to find the sound coming out from underneath the dishwasher, and the sound was loud. Loud enough to travel to the opposite leg of the L of our house to my office.

I ran out to the garage, got a bear trap style mouse trap, baited it with a bit of peanut butter, and figured I’d tear apart the kitchen the next day to destroy all possible modes of entry by rodent.

This morning Carrie came running into the room nearly giggling with glee and said “You got him! Now get him out of my kitchen!”.

That’s right. A year ago, the mouse was too smart for me. This year, I didn’t even give him a chance to grow familiar with my trap. I considered taking a photograph, but thought that a photo of a mouse clamped in the jaws of death, flattened nearly like you might imagine it to happen in cartoons, wouldn’t be pleasant on a Monday morning.

I’m still going to tear apart the kitchen, or at least pull out the dishwasher to clean out any mouse homes, and seal all entries. I suspect that I’ll be seeing more mice as the temps outside start to get colder.