Morning dawned to an empty mousetrap. I was still rubbing the sleep from my eyes when Dad again expressed his doubts about my sanity:
“If there was a mouse in this house, I’d have already caught him. You didn’t see any mouse. It was all in your imagination.”
“You think?” I asked, figuring that if I played along he’d abandon any attempt to catch the little guy.
“There’s not even any signs of a mouse,” Dad said. “If we had a mouse there’d be droppings all over.”
“You’re probably right.”
After breakfast, I settled down in the recliner with my laptop and Dad plunked on the couch to watch his favorite talking heads. A little while later I heard a strange noise and looked around to find the source. Continue reading


























He came around the corner from the kitchen and crawled along the baseboard into the living room. A foot into the living room, the mouse sensed it wasn’t alone. It stopped, looked up at me, reversed direction, and scurried back into the kitchen.



















