While shopping for socks at our local discount store, we literally tripped over a pile of toys slopped in the middle of the aisle–the game Mouse Trap precariously perched atop the mess. What the heck, we saved it from demise, stuck it in our cart and moved on. We enjoyed a lovely night together of building and trapping plastic mice.

This is the unbelievable part. First, it’s totally, unthinkably gross I would ever think of leaving a half-eaten piece of cheese stuck to my kitchen floor overnight. It’s over-the-top that my bed would be so covered with clothing to be put away that I’d sleep on the couch. It’s downright scary two of my children would think there was room enough for them to climb onto the couch with me. And it’s beyond ironic we’d hear a mouse that. very. night. munching in the kitchen. 

Guess what was missing the next morning? The CHEESE! That’s right–we have our own little Ratatouille visit. I can just hear this little furry thing down there telling his friends, “I’m telling you, the lady doesn’t cook ! She buys all this food, the kids grab it out and trail it all over the floor, and she just leaves it there.” [Guffaws, because he's obviously lying.]

Now, the really, really awesome part of the story–the kids staged a nifty plan to catch our little friend. First they pulled up the heat register cover to help the four-legged guy out a bit. Then they set up their Mouse Trap game, complete with some fresh cheddar right under the trap. They figured he could crawl out through the holes, so they covered it in foil. Then they set up camp with their heads lined up right where the living room and kitchen meet and convinced me to let them stay up til midnight.

We put on The Sound of Music and kept very, very quiet. Brian set up camp (literally). I think he was very clever and thoughtful!

Our little Ratatouille did not come back, I’m sad to say; but what a memory!