We’ve got a mouse. A little furry brown mouse. Katie saw it scurry away two nights ago when she turned the bedroom light on and we both saw it last night when he decided to come make a cameo appearance in the living room for about 5 seconds.

Our landlord shows no reaction to anything – I don’t think he actual feels feelings. Usually our conversations involve a lot of me talking and him blankly staring back making for some awkward silences. In addition to being our landlord, he also owns and runs the pharmacy on the first floor of our building which looks like it hasn’t changed in 50 years (including some of the products for sale!). He’s a pretty weird dude, usually wears a light blue pharmacy guy jacket, and still uses a manual typewriter to put up little notes for the tenants.

Today I walked in to the pharmacy, greeted him, and told him we have a mouse. He said nothing but did immediately walk past me and behind one of the display counters in the store. Out of a cabinet he gave me two boxes, one with mouse traps, and one with mouse poison, still saying nothing. “Thanks, hopefully this does the trick”, I said to which he replied, “I think you have a package here” and pointed towards a box containing a mail-order cake which I had been waiting for. How long it had been there I’m not sure since I received no notice of a package arriving.

Anyways, I set up the poison and traps so now we’ll just wait and see. I learned a new word from the back of the poison box: rodenticide.