The mouse

There is a mouse in my kitchen. He appeared for the first time about a week after Saul was born. I saw him in profile and screamed "B, there's an armadillo in the kitchen!" Even though I immediately retracted the word armadillo, I was teased about being crazy for two weeks before B saw him too.

We set out humane traps with peanut butter and wheat thins, but have had no luck. It appears that Bella the Devil Cat is uninterested in chasing mice, probably because she enjoys my discomfort. Last night, I was in the kitchen late to make B a sandwich for lunch the next day. I reached into the corner and pulled out the toaster, and the mouse ran out from behind it. I screamed again, so hard that my throat hurts today.

Today I have decided that maybe our mouse has more upscale tastes, so I re-set the trap with organic mini toasts and Gorgonzola. If we don't catch him soon, I might have to consider more lethal measures. I hate to kill any living creature, but I don't know what else to do. Any suggestions?

On a brighter note, don't I have the most beautiful baby in the entire universe? (I end most conversations this way lately)