Dear Mrs. Mouse...

Dear Mrs. Mouse,

Hi there. How was your winter? Good, I'm guessing. I didn't know you were still around. I hadn't seen much of you for the last few years. It was a bit of a surprise to see you yesterday. I'm sorry if I scared you- or your kids. I really didn't expect you to be all wrapped up in the pool like you were. It did seem to make quite a cozy nest for you. I just wanted to pick-up the cheesey 3 ft. pool from the Mountain House. Again, I didn't realize you and your family were already using it. Whew! The way you and your kids fell out of the folds of that pool- a big, wriggling pile of mousie fur... sure did startle me. Congratulations, by the way, on nursing. It probably saved your life. As a nursing mother myself, I couldn't smash you with a shovel while the whole family was latched on like that.

So, where does that leave us? Umm.. You still need to go. I didn't mind you hanging out in the shed when it was just you. I understand we left the birdseed bag in there all winter. We might just as well have told you, "Go ahead- have a party. Invite your friends!" But, you chewed up my pool. And it's hot. I had to buy a kiddy pool yesterday. It's not very deep. I'm hot and it's your fault, Mrs. Mouse. You don't know how to control your children. You've taught them no boundaries. Perhaps they learned this callous behavior from you. And you know, there's also the whole hygiene thing. Your family doesn't exactly use the toilet.

I'm sorry we're in this situation. It's really awkward to have to write this letter. It's time for you to leave. The mousetraps will be operational by Thursday.

Thank You,

Gettysburg Mom