Mickey Mouse, Coockarachas and mosquitos OH MY!

Yes, I wanted to add more fury to my already out of control life so I bought an old house 3 months ago.   Like it's 92 freakin' years old.  I immediately fell in love with it's old charm and newly renovated twist in a circa 1903 neighborhood.  Not to mention a getaway side patio with a view of the busy street that is perfect for sipping vino on a sultry, summer night.

But just when I thought my biggest problems would be lead paint, a fireplace painted an ugly plum color and a dirt basement.... I was put in my place. 

First, by the resident coockarachas.  Yes fucking COCKROACHES.  I can't say cockroaches without an expletive either before it or after it.  They drive me batty.  They drive me to tears.  I hate these fucking cockroaches.  They didn't show their ugly asses for like a month.  And now - they make an appearance at least once a week.  Sometimes on the wall, sometimes scurrying through the kitchen (on my countertops) and my personal favorite, on my bedroom window ... with their creepy, big-ass antennae's popping out through my bamboo shades.  I have one Old Navy flip flop on the top of my dresser for when I have to kill the muthas.  Have you ever heard one crunch to it's death?  HORRIFYING.  I have a pest service come every 3 months (sometimes in between when necessary), we've done weather stripping and caulk.  NOTHING IS WORKING.

I'm not done.  My backyard gets barely any sun light, so mosquitos swarm around back there like we're on an episode of Swamp People (anyone who has a man in their life, knows this show).  Literally my kids will get 10 bites each while I load them into the car.  Forget West Nile!  I'm looking for any white patches left on their skin - that's not completely swallowed up by big red welts.

Enter Mickey Mouse.  Let me tell you - I know it's Mickey Mouse and not Minnie in my house because no female mouse would've left a mess this big.... not this much shit.  It's definitely a guy mouse.  Mickey shit all up in through my house - especially under my kitchen sink.  So it's one sick rodent, or I have a family of mice living here. 

It is taking every last molecule in my being to not call a realtor and put this house up for sale.  Let's face it - I begged for this house - my husband will murder me. 

How come no one tells you about this kinda stuff when you are excited about buying a new house?  There may be exponential critters living with you - your house may sink so much in one area that you have to push your bed back to it's original position once a week - when you open a window expect it to break - your lights will flicker - you will hear creepy ass noises (critters, ghosts, house settling, who knows!?)

So you know what noises I look froward to hearing tonight?  The snapping of mouse traps downstairs killin' the muthas one by one.

Next up, guerilla warfare for my pre-historic, I will survive, crunchy coated coockarachas.  AKA, vaca with the family for a serious house fogging.

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