Wanna hear something gross?

So, Saturday night we decided to watch a few episodes of The Muppet Show.  I started the stove to make some popcorn in one of those handle-spinning popcorn makers.  Within a few minutes our CO detector started screaming at us.  We double-checked it with a 2nd CO detector and it started screaming too.  I turned off the stove and we told the boys we needed to get out of the house.  I quickly gathered the essentials for an evening out away from home (purse, water bottle, snacks, gloves, long underwear, book, book light, notebook, bite guard).  

We called 911 because nobody answered the non-emergency fire department number.  We weren't sure if this really was an emergency, but apparently it was good enough.  They came in 10 minutes later.  I sat in the car with the boys while Steve talked to the firemen with the doors and windows of the house open.  They determined it was the stove.  They said don't use it, which equals eat out.  Score one for me!

The repairman came yesterday to look at it and found an "extreme case" in our stove where mice had built a rather large nest under the power burner eye of the stove.  SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!  How long have I been cooking on a mouse-infested stove?!  I think the repairman was holding back about how grossed out he was.  He couldn't make eye contact with me.  He was very matter-of-fact and kept stressing the word "extreme."  Apparently, the nest was made from insulation in the stove and food scraps from the kitchen.  Barf.  Barf.  Barf!

We've had mice since we moved in two years ago (Steve is going to kill me for admitting this).  I'm cheap and kind of a procrastinator (Steve's a little better than me).  I really have to have a fire lit under my rear in order for me to move.  I figured we have (past-tense) a cat and we'll throw down a few glue traps.  Umm...not enough, apparently.  The cat just played with them, harming them only enough to allow them to crawl back into our walls where they are probably laying with their intestines exposed being fawned over by Florence Nightingmouse.  

We finally brought in a pest guy in December (post-Fuzzy Kitty disappearance).  He sealed all the cracks around the outside of the house and set some "real" and "humane" traps.  He found a crack in our foundation where the mice were getting in and crawling through the walls to our stove.  So now that crack needs to be fixed.  Translation:  something else for me to procrastinate on and find 10 cheap alternatives for, until finally the house falls down.

So, I think I learned my lesson.  But I doubt it.  Frugality and procrastination are just too ingrained in me.  They're my BFFs.  Why do I have to learn every lesson the hard way?

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