Perceptions: Three Blind Mice
In the cartoons, mice are cute little furry creatures that outsmart overweight cats and make us laugh. In real life they scrape around in the cabinets like cockroaches, eating holes in our food and leaving droppings everywhere. It is not funny.
One evening last week, I heard scratching in the cupboards. When I investigated, I found little trails of destruction woven through the cabinets. I was so filled with rage that I rubbed peanut butter on not one, but three traps, and placed them under the sink. In the morning three squished mice were lined up like cadavers at the funeral parlor.
I cannot not help but wonder at the stupidity of mice. They almost certainly did not take the bait at the same time. This means that mouse number two had to walk up to a trap number two and eat the bait right next to mouse number one's squished remains. Mouse number three was the stupidest of all. He took the bait in the company of both of his executed friends.
As I took their lifeless corpses out to the trash, I saw myself dangling from a trap with them: out shopping with a credit card, devouring a fourth brownie, being selfish with my family. There is no mystery about what will happen. The jaws of the trap will snap, and my soul will be imprisoned. Even though I know this, I find myself lined up with the three blind mice, scarfing down bait.
The truth is that bait is one of my favorite foods, but I am trying to refine my palette. I actually took a trap and set it next to my bathroom sink just to remind me of the three blind mice.