I think mice are rather nice

When I was a little girl I learned this poem
(and now thanks to the great world wide web,
I could find it again):

I think mice are rather nice;
Their tails are long, their faces small;
They haven't any chins at all.
Their ears are pink, their teeth are white,
They run about the house at night;
They nibble things they shouldn't touch,
and, no one seems to like them much,
but, I think mice are rather nice.
by Rose Fyleman

My mom loved to sing and rhyme (and now so does my husband, but that's a story for another day) and whenever we would say a word, she go off singing some little song.

Any so I thought it was true. I thought mice were nice.

Until. Two. Nights. Ago.

We were lying in bed doing devotions when I heard this noise. I asked Mike what is was, but he thought it was outside and told me to ignore it. I kept hearing it, so I eventually got out of bed and went to check where it was coming from. I found the noise coming from the bathroom wall. Yup you read that right. Our bathroom wall was making noise. Or rather, something in the bathroom wall was making noise.

That was most likely a mouse, and maybe his or her family. And they are in our house. Despite the millions of cats that seem to roam around in our yard and do their business in our flower beds.

And so, I no longer think that mice are rather nice.

Please don't tell my mom. =)