You ever had one of those days where you swear animals can sense what is happening and what you are trying to do to them. Well a few days ago I noticed that we had adopted several mice involuntarily at our transit house. Now I am not saying I mind mice I just get really annoyed when they ruin my Cup of Noodles, or bag of chocolate candy. So one day a bunch of us here went out to eat, and the restaurant we were eating at under charged us. Now we told them they were wrong, but since they could not find the error they let us just keep the money. Usually this is not a problem, but since we all paid what we owed. We were faced with the dilemma of what to do with the extra money. We decided to buy mouse traps for the house, and this is where my problem began.
I was the fool that volunteered to go buy and set the traps, mostly because I was tired of losing food to the mice and thought i have no problem going and buying traps since I am going to the store anyway. So yea, with our 150 Delasi I went and bought a couple of mouse traps. Now these were not the Gambian traps that don’t work these were genuine USA mouse killing traps . Yep that is right sporting a bit of US pride even here. Needless to say after buying these traps I set them and let the mouse killing being. It was going pretty well for the first couple of days. I had manged to get 3 kills and had not even baited the traps yet, so I was feeling like a mouse killin fool. Maybe I should just stop at fool, but I will let you be the judge.
Then they decided it was time for revenge. You know a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye. Their attempt was valiant, but ill thought out. They waited till I was blissfully typing away on my computer one night surfing the internet for who knows what. Probably Facebook stalking somebody I don’t remember. That is when the madness ensued. I felt this scratchy sensation on my back, was not sure what it was, my first thought was that my shirt had bunched up and I had found a zipper on a pillow. Not so lucky. I still remember the feeling of his claws as they raked my fingers, that were trying to pull my shirt down.
Now I don’t know how many of you can relate to this, but having a mouse trying to crawl into your shorts with you still in them is not exactly the most pleasant feeling. The feeling of raking across my fingers was not what I was expecting, but I handled it like a good and proper adult male. I jumped to my feet like as if somebody had shouted free ice cream from the kitchen. This may be something that only Peace Corps Volunteers do, but yea. Now when jumping to your feet in this manner you will attract attention, but as soon as you start throwing couch cushions across the room and mumbling obscenities under your breath everybody takes notice.
Once I finally laid eyes on the little vermin, I was face with a dilemma how do I kill this little pants sharer. Like any good PCV, I improvised. I reach down and grabbed my chaco sandal and begin to beat him and the couch into a pulp. Finally after about 20 seconds I finally calm down, mostly because I was winded, and partly because there lay the little twerp dead and motionless. Haha. (Evil Laugh) So moral of the story, don’t mess with the tubab.