Responsibility

I try to have low expectations for my living conditions. (At least, I've tried to have low expectations for my living conditions since moving to Nashville. The nicest name I can come up with for my new place is "the hovel," and I can only hope this tale serves as a cautionary tale to the kids out there about not renting an apartment from Craig's List unseen. The internet can be a deceptive, deceptive place.)

Then, a few weeks ago, I learned that I had not let my standards sink low enough when my landlord called to deliver the news no tenant wants to hear: rodent infestation.

Yep, the girl who thinks that gummy bears are gross as soon as they see heat above room temperature was living in the midst of the small, burrowing creatures who inspired the mind-numbing "Tom & Jerry" cartoons and created minor global inconveniences like the Black Plague.

Now, when my landlord called to let me know about the mice (she discovered the problem when a mouse ran across her foot while she was checking on something in my apartment, and, let's just say, that if there's anything I like less than rodents, it's bold rodents), she wanted to know if I had seen anything before to make me suspect this problem.

Of course, this was a pretty nonsensical question because if I had seen anything to indicate that I was living with mice, she would have been the first person that I called. It's not like living in a mice infested apartment has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl. Rodent-filled living quarters weren't exactly up there with my hopes of being both U.S. President and Princess and finding a real, live unicorn.

Then, my landlord told me that she would have checked under my sink to see if the mice got in that way, but I had too much stuff there, and she just left. So, when I got home from work, I moved my multiple Swiffers and cleaning products from under the sink to look around.

That's when all my doubts about a mice problem vanished. You see, I didn't just have a hole under my sink - I had the kind of dome-shaped mouse hole I thought only existed in those pesky "Tom & Jerry" cartoons.

I just hope this can serve as another lesson for the kids - usually, it pays to pay attention. If it looks like a duck/hole-for-mice and talks like a duck/hole-for-mice, it's probably a duck/hole-for-mice.

Thank goodness for prompt and thorough exterminators.