Three Down and I Would Like to Stop Counting

I was sitting in my chair in the living room the other night reading, watching tv and thinking about bedtime when a small mouse ran across the room. I hate that. It happens every year, but oh how I hate it.

I went to bed because I wasn't in the mood to set the traps and I figured the little guy could have one more day on earth.

The next day I set the traps with peanut butter and went about my day. I set two traps next to each other so that I am sure one with get them while they are eating from the other. The next morning there was a mouse in the traps. I put on gloves and just as I bent down to pick him up he moved. It turns out that only his nose was in the trap. The youngest went and got a plastic bin and I put the mouse and the trap in the bin and went out to release him. (We named him Johnny flat nose.)

I reset the trap and caught another mouse the next night - dead this time. I made the oldest dispose of him. He was not happy - the oldest, not the mouse, although I'm sure the mouse was not too happy when the trap closed on him as he was nibbling.

This morning another mouse. This one was snapped by both traps.

Just how many of the little rodents are in the house this year? Oh well, I have plenty of peanut butter, but I am running out of disposable gloves. I sure would like to stop counting and be mouseless. Or is it miceless?