Squeak, Squeak

I have a mouse in the house. Or maybe several. I don't know. I haven't seen the mouse, but I have seen the remains of my high-heat spatula, which apparently, must be very tasty to a mouse. I plan to go to Walmart tomorrow and get the best, no-smell, no let's look at the dead mouse, mouse trap money can buy me that Walmart sells. I have been hearing the pattering of feet on the porch, but I figured it was a cat on the roof. It sounded too loud to be a mouse. So, maybe there's a herd of mice running a marathon somewhere in the house. No matter. Once I get the traps, they will be gone.