There was a MOUSE in my glove-box. Ah got your attention do I?

Of all the things one takes away from a client’s house, one thing you don’t expect tucked away in the box of clothes and danky stuff is a dark eyed, nose twitching stowaway. We organizers take away carload after carload of household goods, clothes, even furniture. And one does one’s best to vet the stuff before taking it away. I break hearts all the time when I tell my clients the moldy box of clothes sticking to the basement floor isn’t donatable. They simply don’t understand. After all it’s perfectly good stuff – see, look here and here and…SQUEEK!!

So I did a realtor client home and moved it forward towards getting listed. This includes getting rid of a world of stuff to open up the spaces. As a rule I only take away things I can donate. Trash I bag and coordinate the options: free city pickup or the 1-800-it’s Your Junk-You-Have-to-Pay-to-Get-it-Taken-Away.

But I broke my rule to help a client and three days ago I took away four quite musty boxes. The moment I got home I immediately put them out for city garbage and they were spirited away. But somewhere along that initial ride home a passenger got out at a stop not punched on his ticket.

So yesterday while driving to pickup a cheque from one of my realtors, at a local Real Estate Office I thought it would be a good idea to drop some of my cards off too. I leaned over and popped the glove box lid. Up it slid and so rose the curtain on the villain of the piece. There he was center stage for a heartbeat, caught in the limelight. His eyes went wide,his mouth dropped. My eyes went wide and I must have mouthed something to put him off the cheek full of Kleenex he had tucked away. A wee puff spit take was followed by a scurry into a crack in my dash. I veered and swerved.

His tail stuck out for a millisecond but instead of grabbing it and tossing the blighter into traffic I chose to steer the car away from the oncoming light pole.

Yup, tried to catch him when I got home, half expecting another rodent Parkour demonstration. Elusive little rascal. I even sprayed stuff into the vents and made more noise than a Sherman tank to flush him out. Tried shop vac-ing.

Last night my wife chose to not sit in the front seat on the way from the train and this morning, not trusting he had found his way to the forest in back of our house in the night, decided to once more give the dashboard some distance.

It’s just this kind of sudden movement that makes you spill your coffee.

So I just ambled outside and cautiously opened the door to my Rav once more. Crossing my fingers I pressed the glove box button and once more up it slid.

And guess what? There was a mouse in my glove box. Any thoughts people? What’s plan B? I await your thoughts with baited breath. Maybe the bait is peanut butter. Cheese is so been there done that.

Mouse addendum Update: Nabbed the little bugger. I had been desperate to get him out of my car and yes I did lay down snappy traps. BUT every morning there he was comfy and nestled between them on a Kleenex bed, with all the food eaten and the traps undisturbed. But I learned a few tricks too. I taped over his dashboard escape route this time. I poised my shop-Vac just right, braced myself with a flashlight and in a pre-dawn raid flipped open the glove box door and before he could make a break sucked him into the tube – whooosh, thump.

I am kind of glad now he didn’t opt to sit on the trap when eating the hummus and chocolate and almonds I laid out for him. Big eyes and such. I upended the shop-vac across the street and he scurried off into the grass. So he’s fine. Now my wife will sit in the front seat on the way to the train. Isn’t life grand?

Stephen Ilott is a Professional Home Organizer and Declutterer living in Oakville. He’s also a writer looking for more great avenues to write for if you need a fun article for your newsletter. 416-460-8098