Bloody husbands

Bloody husbands. They're completely useless sometimes. Not only do they burp, fart and spend hours sitting on the loo, they also RELEASE THE MOUSE YOU'VE PAINSTAKINGLY CAUGHT WITH THE PATENTED HOMEMADE STEVE SMITH HUMANE MOUSETRAP BACK INTO THE KITCHEN!!!!!!!!!

Yes, it's true. To high excitement I went downstairs this morning to find the mousetrap sprung, the baking tin collapsed on the bottom tray and a small pile of telltale droppings just outside it.

The hubby eyed it suspiciously. "No, there's nothing in there, it's just collapsed or it would be making a noise," he sniffed. True, the mousetrap was eerily quiet, even when I gave the tin a little tap. But what of the droppings, then? Unless he'd looked at the cheese, pooed and nicked off again in an unlikely display of self-restraint, there had to be a mouse inside.

"He might have been there, but he's obviously escaped," was the hubby's response. "Face it, your trap is crap."

Obviously I couldn't check it inside the house because if there was a mouse, he'd escape (you know?). No, we'd have to wait till I was ready to go out.

I told Mum on the phone. "What will you do with him if there is a mouse?" "Drive five miles down the road to release him, as instructed." "Not very eco-friendly to drive five miles to release a mouse, is it?" Smarty pants (apparently she'd been discussing the trap in the pub last night with her mates). So I resolved to combine the mouse liberation outing with my planned trip to the organic farm shop (River Brook Farm, amazing place), but that doesn't open till 10, so I came upstairs to put Dot down for a nap in the meantime.

Unfortunately not everyone on the house has as much patience. My husband is borderline OCD when it comes to clearing things away and clearly couldn't resist the mousetrap. He just came upstairs looking sheepish. "I took the top off and there he was," he said. "He looked at me, I looked at him, and before I could do anything, he shot off behind the gas oven." Oh ye of little faith! Vindicated, but foiled!

So we're back to square one. At least we now know the trap works. But the next question is, will the mouse fall for the same trick twice, or has the hubby ruined everything? It'll depend if he (mouse, not hubby) can resist the clarion call of the New York State Helluva Good Cheddar. Well, we're off to the big smoke tonight for a few days so I guess we'll try the trap again when we get back and see what happens (and no, we can't leave it out while we're gone. Apparently he's a very cute little mouse and if he gets in there tonight, he'd have snuffed it by the time we get back. Not ideal).

Anyway, guess who's going to be spending the rest of the morning on their hands and knees behind the gas oven plugging up the hole where the pipe comes in? (Clue: not moi.)