The following is a true story, no names have been changed to protect the stupid.

My husband, Mike is a good man and good father, and I keep reminding myself of that, after this latest incident.

A little backstory:  I found a mouse recently in the garage.  Not a shock, we live next to a field and it happens.  I run across them from time to time.    I have lived in this house for 10 years, and have NEVER had a mouse in my house.   So, an occasional mouse in the garage isn't a big deal.

Mike and my oldest daughter Emma left for a 4 day hunting trip on Wednesday.   I was out that night, and when I came home, the babysitter informed me there was a mouse in my house.  It walked out under my pantry door.   I was immediately mad at my husband because he had left all the doors open while loading the truck for his hunting trip, and I figured that's how it got in.

I called him while I was on my way to the store for mouse traps at 10:00 at night.  He told me that there shouldn't be a problem because he put Dcon in my pantry when I told him about the mouse in the garage.  (LONG pause for dramatic effect).

"What the &^%#@?"  I think those were my exact words.  Then, it was, "do you know what %$@$ Dcon is?  It's %#$$ rat poison, it %$& attracts  $@#$% mice, they eat it, and then they crawl off to $%#$ die.  You put it in my %$# pantry with the food I feed my kids?  Without even talking to me about it?  What the %$#^ were you thinking?"

That's just part of the conversation, I left out the part where I got really mean.

Seriously, who doesn't know what Dcon does?  Who in their right mind would put Dcon in a pantry full of food?

The next day, no mice in the traps, which was actually upsetting for me.  That either meant they were still on the loose or had crawled off to die somewhere IN MY HOUSE.

If there's a happy part to all of this, I am 99% sure we discovered the mice (yes, there were two of them) the first day. I have checked every drawer, closet, corner of the house, and just found the "evidence" in the one place, and there wasn't that much evidence in there.

There was mouse poop in my pantry, therefore it all had to go.  It didn't matter to me that unopened food and cans of food were untouched.  It all had to go.  Yes, the rational part of me realizes that there are mice in grocery stores, warehouses and the like, and that the food was probably exposed to mice before it even reached my house.

Don't worry, it didn't go to waste, all unopened food was given to a young MSU student, who didn't care about the mice.

The next day, I walked into the kitchen to check the traps for the hundredth time, this time I got "lucky."  Two mice.  Dead.  In my house.  I screamed like the woman in the horror movie who was about to get whacked.  At this point, Mike got another call cussing him out.

I got rid of them myself, with the bbq spatula, which has joined the rest of the pantry items in the garbage.

Mike got home yesterday.  He bleached everything in the kitchen, and then cleaned the garage from top to bottom.  I am getting a cat today.  I am also going to wait a few days before re-stocking the pantry, with traps set, just to make sure.

Am I crazy?  Yes, I am.  But, THERE WAS DCON IN MY CLEAN HOUSE and MICE!

Why do you feel so dirty when a mouse gets into your house?  You tell me, am I over reacting?  I know just about everyone gets a mouse in their house from time to time, (I even lived on a ranch for part of my childhood) but you have to back me up on the Dcon in the pantry.