Mystery Solved

The loud clanging. The butter knife in the middle of the floor. The dream. The theory that I imagined the whole thing. Well, well, well... as you can see, I have been vindicated.

The tide began to turn when Rebecca noticed the droppings appearing on the counter. Hearing those sweet words, "I think you may be right..." At first, a wave of relief spread over me as I realized I was not in fact, losing my ability to distinguish reality from my dreams. Then, an incredible rush of "I told you so's" and wanting to rub it in that my theory of the midnight mouse was indeed true. And then, total disgust as it dawned on us that we have a rodent problem in our apartment. The hunt was on.

The first night of trapping: Mouse 1, Keith 0. The trap was licked clean without ever tripping it. So that's how it's gonna be. He wasn't so crafty the second night (pictured), although he somehow still managed to get all of the peanut butter.  And so began the game of Keith and Mouse. Right now I'm sitting at a 50% success rate. Last night's capture was an ugly scene. He (hey, it could be a she I suppose) was killed alright, but not in the way it's supposed to go down. Two traps in the cupboard, one was released with no mouse and the other trap...   Well, the little bugger got nailed across its body and then dragged itself around the cast iron pan (setting off the other trap in the process??) and then died a slow death, unable to escape back to the outside as it slowly lost the ability to breathe as its organs were crushed. Not exactly the most humane death, and one that I'm not super proud of either. But, his noble run-for-it allowed me to see that there is a break in the cupboard underneath, a large gap in the carpentry, allowing our little uninvited pests to come through every night.

I will admit that I am again, both incredibly giddy, yet appalled with each successful execution. I'm kind of a wuss, no doubt about that. I just have this fear that when releasing the trap, the mouse will awake or resurrect and enact its fierce revenge upon me and my household. It'll simply run off and leave me searching for it, squealing like a little girl in the process. I'll never forget the paralyzing terror I experienced in college when working on a term paper in the basement of our house, when I saw a mouse run within inches of my fully exposed feet under the desk. I was rescued by our spastic yellow Labrador Bailey, who sprung into action and captured it in her mouth and brought it upstairs before dropping it into a shoe - which we promptly tossed outside.

And so, with each kill I am becoming, little by little, a little more manly. Last year on internship, I sought to up my personal macho factor by facing another fear: bats. On one occasion, a bat had infiltrated the church, and swooping around, he sent everyone into a panic. While screaming on the inside, I played it cool on the outside and went after the bat, eager to face it in what I envisioned would be an epic John Candy/Dan Ackroyd re-enactment of their bat battle in "The Great Outdoors." Then the confirmation kids showed up and ruined my moment. Here I was, city boy Keith, creeping up on this freaky, gross and rabies causing little winged creature, ready to catch him in a coat and release him outside. With smart phones out capturing all the action on video, this little thing continued to have its way with his hunters. Then, pausing long enough for me to make my move, this 7th grade farm boy, who's dealt with hundreds of vermin in his young lifespan, just walks over to the bat and slaps it to the ground and steps on it. I was angry on so many levels - mostly at myself and my cowardice. Then, upon learning that killing a bat is actually illegal in Minnesota, I was a tad miffed that he had so callously ended this bat's life without hesitation. 

Well, the winter looks to be long, giving me plenty of chances to man-up to mice and kill with reckless abandon. Perhaps by day seven I will be able to remove the mouse without using a plastic bag as a glove. Part of me wants to set up a hidden, night vision camera to study how they manage to get away half of the time. Another part of me wants to fill in the hole and block their passage altogether. I'm still curious how they ever got up onto the counter. The mystery continues...

The Mystery of the Mind

In need of solving a good mystery?  Well, I've got one for you.

Last night I went to bed a little earlier than usual in hopes of getting up earlier so that I could get cranking on some projects that have been hanging over my head. Tuesdays are my days off, devoted entirely to doing homework, errands and whatever else I need to do in keeping myself sane as a full time seminary student. So, that was the plan set in place. Well, it all went out the window at about 1:30 a.m. when I jumped out of bed and stood frozen in the hallway...listening.  Listening intently. I swore I heard some kind of noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like dishes or glass bottles - just general racket - not too loud, but definitely not soft either. So here I am, standing in the middle of the hallway, in the dark wondering:  am I awake?  Was that real?

A similar incident happened about a month ago when I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to what sounded like someone typing on our computer in the office, just on the other side of Natalie's room.  If you haven't figured out by now, I am without a doubt, one of the lightest sleepers I know. I hear everything. My mind is constantly moving. After lying awake listening to that, I was somehow able to talk myself out of the possibility because I could tell that the screen was black, and if someone was typing, the screen would be lighter. In the morning, when I had a little more of my senses operating, I realized that I had left a window open in the living room, and the sound I thought was typing was really the blinds rattling in the wind. Man, that was so creepy though.

Anyway, back to the hallway at 1:30 a.m. After waiting for the sound to repeat itself for about two minutes to no avail, I head back to bed.  At 2:00 a.m. I awake to the sound again - this time, much louder and lasting longer. I stay in bed for just a bit longer, listening to A) pinpoint the exact location and B) to make sure I was in fact truly awake. Then, I jolted out of bed and raced to the kitchen, where I throw on the lights and take in the scene. I really don't know what I'm thinking I will find - but I sure wish that sound had continued to at least convince myself that I wasn't dreaming. Alas, no sound once I got out of bed. Nothing. Now, here's where my mind gets totally messed up. Right in the center of the kitchen floor lays a dirty butter knife!  I walk over to it, look at it for a few seconds and pick it up, and place it on the kitchen counter. No way Rebecca or I missed seeing that thing before bed!  Instantly my mind is racing - something is going on in here. I am not dreaming that sound I keep hearing. I walk back to bed and lay wide awake, wrestling with what is going on.

From that point on of course, I hear nothing. And I'm fully awake at this point. My only conclusion is that there was a mouse that somehow got into our apartment. We received an email a couple weeks ago about mice in the apartment building... and we even saw one right inside the exterior door to the building.... It's definitely a mouse. That would explain everything. A mouse is smart enough to stop moving once it hears commotion. "Ugh - I forgot to take out the garbage and recycling yesterday!" I think to myself. And the knife?  Well, that little intruder must've been knocking around amidst our dirty dishes ("c'mon Keith - you gotta get those done too!") and the knife plummets to the ground, making a loud noise and then, hearing the sleeping bear thundering towards it, the mouse dashes under the sink...and once the sleeping bear returns to his slumber, the mouse gets cracking at the recycling, where there are at least a dozen empty Gerber baby food glass bottles just begging to be investigated by an uninvited midnight mousey. Now I'm wondering if I should go out there and take a look under the sink and get this mouse outta there. And how am I gonna do that?!  No. I will investigate in the morning, when there is sunlight and no chance to somehow push the mouse in the direction of our bedroom, or worse, Natalie's room.

After an hour of thinking about this (and not hearing anymore noise) I decide to put in my ear plugs and attempt to get more sleep. Rebecca of course, hears nothing and sleeps through it all. I told her about my thoughts the second go around, and her reply about my dilemma was too muffled to understand.  And then I have the following dream:  Convinced it was in fact a mouse under the sink, I recruit Rebecca to come with me into the kitchen to investigate. Suddenly, without warning me, she kicks the recycling bag and out runs a mouse in my direction and bites and scratches my foot!  I slap it off of me and proceed to swear up a storm at my wife, angry as can be that she would act so carelessly...  I wake up. Seriously? Ok, I only dreamt that because of the real noise that I heard and the real theory I have about the mouse...right?  Right? The butter knife!  I remember the butter knife and somehow I have it all placed together and assure myself that I am indeed, not going crazy.

So either this all happened just as I have told it to you, or Leonardo DiCaprio and his cronies have compromised the integrity of my dreams and I am the subject of an elaborate Inception like plot. Who have I wronged? And how were they able to manipulate my dreams?

I awoke at 7 a.m. So much for that early start. I put on some clothes, making sure to have closed toe shoes on, and make my way to the kitchen. The knife is just where I left it on the counter at 2 a.m this morning. I open up the kitchen sink cabinet, expecting to see our recycling strewn all over the place... and wouldn't you know it, that little mouse put everything back in order, just as he found it!  Everything was in order. No bite marks, not a drop of mouse poo - nothin' - no evidence of a break-in.


Two monkeys are arguing. The first monkey says, "The tree is moving." The second monkey disagrees and says, "the wind is moving the tree." Lastly, a Zen master comes by and says, "No, you're both wrong. Your mind is moving."

Was this all just a figment of my imagination?  Is my mind that restless that it needs to move all through the night, messing with me when I should be getting sleep?  For all of you CSI, House and other mystery buffs - give this one some attention... I am completely clueless as to what really happened...Suggestions?