In Which Dad Befriends Some Mice

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My dad is a real clean freak. He’s always been this way, especially in the kitchen – never a crumb out of place, and every jar sealed to perfection. That’s why it surprised me to discover some mouse droppings smack dab on his kitchen bench. Not wanting to get dad started, I hastily tried to scoop the offending pellets into the bin, but he noticed and informed me that he had a mouse infestation.

It’s pretty strange; as far as I know, most pests take up residence in a human dwelling primarily because there’s stuff for them to eat there, whether that’s the wood inside the walls or food scraps under the stove. Dad’s house, by all accounts, is serving up much that’s palatable to rodents. At least, that’s what I’d have thought. Dad went on to tell me, though, that he’d called up a pest removal company in Frankston, and they’d been equally perplexed, until they’d come across a loose panel in his fancy Japanese composting device. Evidently, the mice had been sneaking discarded vegetable bits out of this thing.

It still surprises me that such a food source could support enough mice to call the situation a problem, but by the pest controllers’ assessment, there was a bit of an infestation going on. The other culprit that they identified, alongside the composting bin, was that there was a small hole in the kitchen wall, which appeared to have its origin outside the house near where dad keeps the wheelie bins.

I’m thinking that if dad, of all people, has this problem, I wonder what kinds of infestations my place has? (Note to self: research Berwick pest control.) Dad has since sent the composter off to be repaired, but has yet to block up the hole in the wall. This is a bit out of character, which makes me wonder if he actually wants to keep the mice around – maybe he thinks they add some character to the place, which is admittedly a bit of a white box.