Walked into the kitchen tonight only to be startled by a mouse jumping up and down trying to get out of the sink.
A sharp intake of breath, followed by a low “oh my gosh” with the little air my lungs would allow to escape.
He kept hopping into the dirty dishes filled with water that my roommate left. Eventually he crawled into a little plastic tub. I grabbed a nearby bag and was able to scoop up the tub. In my socks, I walked out into the new snow, crouched down on the street, and shook the little guy out of the bag. He plopped out, paused a half second to gauge his surroundings, and took off down the street.
Was it the snow that drive him in? Was it that the landlord, after six weeks of complaining, bothered to start fixing the hole in our ceiling? I forgot to ask.