Last night while making dinner, a jar fell out of the pantry and fell onto my mousie dish spilling hundreds of biscuits all over the place. Mum got that bowl for me when I was a baby, on a visit to Melbourne. Luckily she had a back up bowl, but it did make her sad that it was beyond repair and had to be thrown away.
Now imagine the dark bedroom at 2am, when mum heard the unmistakable noises of real life mouse chasing. Mum switched the light on as I chased it on the bed. She jumped out to grab the brush and shovel to take it outside, but it had gone. The chasing slowed down, but it took mum a long long time to get back to sleep.
When she woke up there was a dead little mousie next to my bed. Now it has had a mouse funeral in the rubbish bag.