The mouse who came to bed with us.

10 months ago I moved from Sydney Australia to somewhere on the prairies of Nebraska USA. From living in a population of 6 million I now inhibit a town of just 16000. My first shared experience for this blog is from a few weeks back:

It was around 3am when I awoke startled, jumping from my bed and screaming. My husband, concerned, asked what was wrong? I'd just jumped about a foot from the bed to the door way. Flying through the air I had screamed: 'a mouse'! My husband almost laughing said: 'There is no mouse'. He then proceeded to turn on the light, turn back the covers and prove to me that there was indeed no mouse to be found. Perhaps my dreams were feeling particularly real that night and the sounds I'd heard were all just in my head? The little scratching sounds, the pulling on my hair - all a dream. After all, we live in a 1925 farm house where there are many creeks in the night. I lay back down to sleep reassured, holding my husbands waist for comfort yet still feeling my heart beat rapidly.

Minutes pass and I'd drifted into a shallow sleep. Suddenly my husband says: "I think you were right". I smile at his joke and remain eyes closed. Then my husband dives from the bed squealing and flying back the covers. I sit up unconvinced, only to be rapidly panicked. There it was, a mouse in our bed! I screamed, my husband screamed. I bolted for the living room, stood on the highest perch of the couch and covered my eyes with my hands. AHHH I scream. I hate mice.

What proceeded was a 45 minute hunt for the mouse. My husband trapping the mouse in the bedroom, trying to lure it out from under the bed where it hid, trapping it by putting a bin (trash can) over top of it then releasing it to the fields. I remain standing on the top of the couch. Oh boy, oh boy - I hate mice.

Weeks later our house is a mouse trap museum. While we have enough traps to catch a Dingo, I remain fearful every night - Fearful of the mouse who came to bed with us.