Last week, I sealed up every mouse hole and crack I could find with expanding foam, vacuumed up every last bit of mouse poop, and thought, "The worst is over." 


This week, the poop was back in all the usual places. New poop even appeared in the bedroom while we were working on it. (Ninja mice.) Infuriated, I set a bunch of snap traps last night, my hatred for little buggers  propelling me. I imagined hearing the traps snapping in the night with a sense of triumph.

Now it's the morning and I have to pee but I can't go to the bathroom because I'm afraid to walk past potential dead mice.


One mouse caught, a big one who was likely their king.