I don’t know whether Pinterest has failed me or enabled me. The jury is still out.

A “while” ago… (which is to say, “longer than I would like to admit….”.  Pffft.) (And this is embarrassing, because what I am about to describe is “a fall harvest project from a few years ago” kinda longer.) (Uh-huh: I am not known for my seasonal appropriateness.)

So, a while ago,  I attempted a Pinterest project.  Okay.  TBH.  I am rarely if EVER on Pinterest. I have way, WAY too much to do on Facebook to have time to waste on productive tasks connected with Pinterest. Actually, I get my few and far between best finds on Pinterest via Facebook (read: other people’s pins), so who needs to actually sift through the gems when you’ve got “Pinterest for Facebook Dummies” instead.

But I digress.

So, yeah, a while ago… I bought a bunch of different coloured lentils from Bulk Barn, along with a large, clear vase from Walmart. And I did this so that I could layer the lentils in coloured tiers inside said jar. Seemed doable at the time. I even thought a cute little candle would complete the look.

Fast-forward to the past month of my life. Wherein we have caught five little mice in our house.  So precious.

They are (were) a sweet little family of mice, if you will.  While they were living. (Bless)

And yet.  This is not all there is to tell.  Because one member who MADE IT THROUGH THE STAKE-OUT ALIVE, was actually JUMPING around today at noon, trying to get out of my Pinterest project.  Yes, and all this action happening this very morning while I was blissfully unaware at church.  I found him/her/whatever.it.was upon arriving home from church, just as I was sitting down to (you guessed it): JUST AS I WAS SITTING DOWN TO GO ON FACEBOOK.  People, I nearly lost my hard-earned fellowship meal that I had just newly acquired from church.

I ask you: is Pinterest worth it?

I am not sure.

True. It helped me catch the mouse. But it also drew a whole mouse family to a Super Storehouse of beautiful, albeit dusty soup lentils… for a solid month. I kid you not. I found lentils in the oddest places. Husband would try to soothe me by saying the kids were playing with them, placing them on top of the magazine holder and strewing them all over the floor. It seemed plausible at the time. Kids will be kids. But playing with lentils? I wasn’t entirely sure.

Until today.

I will never get the image of that disgusting little mouse trying to climb the walls of my glass vase Pinterest Project out of my mind.  And I thought I had a crazy life yesterday.  I had no idea.

Daughter at bedtime: “…and please God. Help there to be no more mice in our house.”

Amen to that prayer.

And then another Daughter to Husband: “Do you think a mouse will get in my bedroom tonight?”
Husband (having enough of this ridiculousness): “No. We caught them all.”
Daughter: “But how do you know?”
Husband (vaguely): “Because I remember them.”
Daughter: “From when?”
Husband (even more vaguely): “From before.”

Because he’s the Mouse Whisperer, that’s why. He once stayed up until 2:00 a.m. with a hockey stick, determined to corner, catch and kill a vole. With a hockey stick.  While he sat on a chair in our entryway. No word of a lie.  (Post-Script: He never caught it.)

I slept well that night.

And this just in, even as I work out the remainder of this little rant. A little gem of a story happening just now in our little corner of the woods:

Daughter came downstairs to tell me she is “clean terrified of mice”.
Welcome to the Club, sister.

Me too.

Mama JUST might not be sleeping here tonight.  See you when I get back from the Alberton hotel in the morning.

But first… instead of cruising Facebook for the next hour in search of Expedia.com last minute hotel deals, I am on Mouse Patrol in the upper levels of a two-story farmhouse while a little girl tries to pretend that a real-life Disney movie is not happening in her house.

For the love.

I think I never want to see a living, costumed or even stuffed mouse again as long as I live.

Post-script: Here is a picture.  This is not for the faint-of-heart.