Our move to the house is officially complete. We still have few more boxes to open, but the big chunk of the arranging the house is now accomplished.
Pantry and kitchen were the first rooms that I laid out after the move. I stocked the pantry with best of what my family likes- organic pancake flour mix, savory snacks and chocolate chip cookies, oblivious that are abode was invaded by the tiny, squeaky creatures who shared the same love for food.
That fateful night, our pantry stuff was carelessly nibbled by the mice. I was angry at the mayhem that these buggers created. So I did what the situation demanded. I called the pest control. The company left me with mouse traps after a casual demo of how to apply peanut butter on the traps to attract the rodent. Apparently, these mice are drawn to peanut butter like Winnie the Poo to honey.
My hubby and I set the traps and waited for the catch.
Day 1 morning: Bingo!! We caught one mouse.
Disposing it off was easy! My hubby wore plastic bags like gloves and neatly put the dead mouse into another bag and threw it.
Day 2 and 3 Caught two more mice and my husband tossed the dead rodents like a pro.
Day 4 Caught one more, but this time my hubby did not throw it . He gave me a look. The look that said it was my turn to get hands dirty. It wasn’t as if I had to do bungee jumping or something insanely scary like skydiving, but I felt squeamish at the sight of the mouse.
My hubby said, ‘You’ve dissected mice in Biology, so throwing a dead mouse is a piece of cake!’
‘Eeewwwuuu! I can’t even look straight at the dead rodent.’
‘Just pick the whole thing up and throw it in a bag.’
After my hubby left for work, I was left alone to deal with my fears. After a deep exhale, I gave a ninja glance at the lifeless mouse, while  murmuring ‘It’s a piece of cake, it’s a piece of cake!’ ‘It’s not a dead mouse, but just a piece of cake.’ 
Clouded by my thoughts, I wrapped my hands in a plastic grocery bag.  I doubled the bag in my other hand to be extra cautious to not touch the mouse. Then I stood as far as possible from the target, and then bent over and stretched my arm to grab the trap along with the entangled mouse barely holding it with my thumb and finger. I threw the dead into the bag and secured it with many knots. I am grateful to the yoga practice that helped me in taking this perfect warrior stance against my enemy- the fear.
‘Phew!’ I took a deep sigh of relief and did a victory dance to celebrate my act of valor. I washed my hands multiple times and then collapsed onto a couch like a doctor celebrating the success post a complicated surgical operation. That morning instead of tea I had a big glass of wine. (Well, wine part is a bit of a stretch, but I sure felt drunk over my success.)
Hence proved I can do anything I put my mind to, even pick up the dead mice.
So, can you!
Photo credit: CJ Isherwood via Foter.com / CC BY-SA
Photo credit: symphony of love via Foter.com / CC BY-SA