there's a mouse in my house. i want to be all, "but it's probably cute like ratatouille." but it's not.
update: the crazy noise i was hearing that first made me call opa and sheepishly admit that, yes, i DID want him to come over and check it out, was not a mouse -- or a raging raccoon like i originally thought. it was actually my kitchen timer losing its battery power! but even opa -- the brave opa who searched inside my cabinets and went out to buy mousetraps -- admitted it sounded like a raccoon. and since he did find mouse droppings under the sink, we put a trap out. well, HE put a trap out. i hovered in the corner.
honestly, though, i'm not sure i ever cleaned under the sink when i moved in. so the evidence may be outdated. and that is what i am telling myself, because otherwise i will never be able to sleep.