Of Mice and Men and Nana Pam

A couple of months ago, a field mouse invaded our pantry through an undetected hole in the wall behind the stove. Like any conscientious red-neck out in the countryside, I became obsessed with eradicating the said mouse from our humble abode. I had previously had a mouse problem in the shed and in the barn and had set a few traps to keep the mouse population under some control. Hey, we are living in a rural area, and I realize that we are going to have a few mice no matter what, and that certain tactical responses are required to keep the number of mice to minimum.

But having mice in the house brought the mouse-battle to a whole new level. I repaired the hole in the wall and set a few traps. I was determined to keep the mice out of my house by any means available. Any self-respecting home-owner would do the same.

Hey, I ain't one of these guys who just let these things go. I may have a couple of big dogs in the house, and I may allow feral cats to come in once in a while, and may have inadvertently let a racoon or two chase a couple of chickens through the living room, but there ain't no way I would tolerate verminous rodents to invade my home without doing something about it.

So, to make a long story short: I came home from a trip earlier this week and while unpacking my laptop computer, I saw that I had lost the battery cover for my wireless mouse and mentioned the fact to Nana Pam, who, in Nana Pam fashion, seemingly changed the subject to some long drawn out story about getting the upstairs closet cleaned out in preparation for the continuation of the renovation project delayed by illness and lack of funding and finding all sorts of things we had forgotten about and which had been stored away because we just don't have a place for the stuff and blah blah blah, and, oh, by the way, "I found a few mice while cleaning out the closet".

Now, if you've ever conversed with Nana Pam, you realize that sticking to just one topic of conversation is a foreign concept to her. However, I, being the patient listener that I am, try to stay focused and to listen attentively to every word she says (Riiiiight . . .).

Obviously, by the rambling explanation, she meant that during her cleaning of the upstairs closet she had found a box of computer equipment that contained a number of electronic GUI interface devices, commonly known as "mice", and that I could perhaps use the battery cover from one of these surplus devices.

Needless to say, I would have easily understood that statement. But, NOOOOOOO. Instead of such a simple and logical explanation, she said "I found mice upstairs", and I naturally assumed, based on what she said and based on my previous experience, that the "War of the House-Mouse" had gone from a tactical response to a new strategic offensive level, and that not only had the evil vermin come in through the down-stairs, but in my short absence had also invaded the upstairs and had taken over the guest bedroom, practically daring me to escalate the battle with boots on the ground and gun-fire and attacks by drones carrying air-to-ground missles (if necessary).

But, luckly that did not occur. The simple misunderstanding of Nana Pam's statement resulted in little more than thoughts of a better mouse-trap and momentary palpitations of the heart - which, by the way, is doing fine, thanks for asking.

And I hope this clears up her recent facebutt post to our friends and family.

The real good news is that (1) I found the battery cover for the laptop GUI interface device, (2) the rodents have been successfully contained to the outdoors, and (3) the Oklahoma heat-wave is about to subside. All is well and right with the world.