Most people don’t publish the fact that they may have little, squeaky, skittish, snack-seeking, shrill-worthy, and might I add scary, rodents in their apartment. But I figure I don’t live in the White House, so I might as well. I came home from class around 10am hoping for a mid-morning snack. I wanted a granola bar, and I had a bag of them sitting on the pantry floor. As I went to open the bag, I noticed that some little conniving thing had already opened it for me. I reached for the peanut butter bar. No, he had already had a nibble of that. Then the strawberry. He liked that too. And the cookies and cream, well, that was his favorite.
Our apartment is tiny. I’m so curious as to where he is hiding. I can practically scan our entire apartment floor from my bed, so where is he? Thankfully, my mom brought me mousetraps, cheese, poison, steel wool (to stuff in any cracks), and a door guard. I have no compassion for rodents.
The evidence
Come and get it, idiots.
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