the war for my classroom, that is. When I first stepped foot in my room I was so impressed with how organized everything was. All that little Montessori stuff on short little shelves. Small chairs and small tables. It looked fabulous...until I checked out my "office". It seemed to be the holding place for all materials and supplies that had gone by the wayside...and mouse poop. Yep, little tiny black remnants of the resident rodents. Now, here's the thing about me and mice. I have no problem with mice. They are cute, they are alive, they can be pets. I am good with mice, HOWEVER...I am not good with their droppings! I can't stand mouse poop! It sicks me out! So, for the last 5 weeks I have gone to my classroom, continued organizing and cleaned up the poop. Of course my fabulous Principal immediately set traps in my room when I told her of the little pets but that was a bundle of laughs in and of itself.
Apparently there are many types of mouse traps and the district maintenance trap of choice were these little strips of sticky card stock that the mouse is supposed to run on, get stuck to and then struggle to get off and apparently eat itself in the process of panic. Nice huh? (All this in the midst of cute little tables and chairs.)
It seemed that each time I came in to work in the room those little strips were mouseless but covered with poop and random hair. I kept thinking that if I had a video camera on these stinkin things they would be singing and dancing on the so-called trap and then running off. So, when I visited 2 weeks ago I looked at the sticky, poopy so-called traps for the last time. I came prepared with old school metal, snappy traps. I carefully read the directions and then went on a hunt for something to put in the traps. Saltine crackers were all I could come up with so I carefully set them on the trap and off I went. When I visited my room this past Thursday, more poop, empty traps and no mice. That did it. I grabbed my purse and headed to Dollar General to buy peanut butter. All the while convincing myself not to snap my fingers when I reset the traps. Of course that had to happen but I lathered the traps in peanut butter, cleaned up the poop...ONE MORE TIME...and left the room.
I'm going in on Monday and I am expecting to find dead mice. Yep, no mercy. And I'm ok with that.
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