I woke Marc up in the middle of the night last night because I was pretty sure I’d heard squeaking coming from our master bedroom closet. He told me, half-awake, that it was just the furnace. I don’t think it was. I heard the squeaking after the furnace turned off.
I don’t think the mice can get into the house now because Marc put that panel back up by the water heater in our closet. (It still baffles me that we have a water heater in our bedroom closet!) But, as I thought about them possibly being in there, I pictured them doing something like this:
Of course you miss the part where the pigs or the dog peek in and the sheep just stand there like they’re doing nothing. I’m sure that’s what would’ve happened if we’d moved the panel.
(And I’ll wait until after Marc gets home from the library (hopefully with a finished paper!) to tell him that I found mice poop in the bathroom. It is his birthday, after all.)