And now for our weekend wildlife encounter. We had some friends over and had just put some potato chips in a bowl for them (because we're fancy) when I saw a horrible thing: a ragged little hole gnawed through the side of the bag. You could see the toothmarks. It was particularly tragic because a) our friends were hungry and dinner wasn't ready yet and b) these were Martin's Bar-B-Q Waffle Potato Chips, which we had lovingly imported from Hanover, Pennsylvania. They are an exotic delectable that cannot be found in the state of North Carolina.
And since the intruder not only ate our chips but also probably enjoyed several satisfying poops in them (do you know this about mice? they poop everywhere) we had to wrench the bowl from our guests' hands and toss the chips.
Then the next morning when Josh opened the pantry for some cereal, he had a standoff with the Rodent of Unusual Taste in Snack Foods. A battle ensued that ended in the mouse's cartoonish escape, complete with a sliding skid across the kitchen floor, all while maintaining terrified eye contact with a broom-wielding Josh.
Not long after that we learned--please don't ask me how, it was a gruesome morning--that we are dealing with more than one mouse. "Mice" sounds much worse than "mouse" because it is much worse. More poop. More violation of our pantry.
Anyway, we've identified their point of entry. A sheet of taped-down aluminum foil seems to be holding them at bay. For the moment. Wish us luck.