The Big Stir

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse….

Okay.  Let’s stop right there.  I can’t go on with this Christmas Poem… for yet ANOTHER year, without addressing the opening stanza.

I don’t doubt that all the people in the house were snuggled up in their beds… but more than likely, the mice were up and about. Stirring.

Here is the first fact we should get out of the way.  You have mice.  Or at least a mouse.  I’ll explain that one later.  We all have some sort of little rodent sharing out abode.  For one… just the RAT population in the world is 12 rats to every one human.  This does not even count the more prolific little cute house mouse population.  There are a gazillion of them.  And a recent nationwide study of house “dander and dust”…..  showed evidence of mice in EVERY single home tested in the United States.  You built it…. and they came.

Now… most of us…. are lucky enough to have just one or two of the most Introverted mice.  They pretty much go unnoticed.  I mean… they just sit in their little dens… in YOUR walls… and read little mice books.  They snack on little mice snacks.  And watch little episodes of MCIS on their little mice TVs.    They more or less keep to themselves.  They like it that way.  Occasionally, you may here a “noise” in your house.  You say out loud… “Jim… did you hear that?  What in the world was that noise?”  “Oh… just the house creaking dear.”  WRONG-O.  Bet me.  It was a mouse.

Anyway.  Back to the problematic kind.  These are the Extroverts.  They are the Sagittarius, the Gemini, the Aries Mice.  And such.  The Socialites.  The Minglers.  The Chatters.  These mice are ALWAYS having other mice over.  They have parties.  Lots of  parties.  They get Mouse-Soused.  They run about… day and night.  Sometimes, they decide they ALL should live there… entire families of them.  These are the kind you notice.  These are the ones that perish in traps.

You see. Mice are smart. Most mice are not fooled by traps.  However.  Drunk mice stumble in to traps. They start Jones-ing for something to eat… they see the big hunk of cheese through their bleary little eyes… and before you know it …. SNAP.

Just a little Lifehack for future reference. You can forego putting out the traps.  Simply put out bowls of wine and little hunks of cheese.  The Social Mice will get all bluto, and pass out.  All over the place.  The following morning, all you have to do is collect them in a brown paper bag and move them to another location.  It takes them a long time to sleep it off.

But back to the poem. Mice stir.  They tend to be busier at night, because they are nocturnal.  So of course a mouse is stirring.  I’ve seen the movies…. I’ve watched the shows.   And I know the drill.  There’s Micky and Minnie;  The Secret of NIHM; An American Tale with Fivel; Ratatouille; Tom & Jerry;  Mouse Hunt;  The Tale of Despereaux; and Stuart Little.  And on.  Theyyyyyy stir.  Like little cake-makers… they stir.  While you sleep… they scurry.   To an fro. They will do it tonight.  They are athletic, and cunning.  They have great eyesight and super sniffers.  They are stealthy.  And quick.  But the bottom line is… they stir.

So the poem is flawed….  ‘and to all a good night.’

Now we know.  So. It is time to be happy about Christmas once again, now that we have the truth of this.

Happy Christmas Eve.  To you, and yours.

And your mice.