My Granny is very particular about keeping the ants away, which is one of the reasons we have to make sure that any food type trash goes immediately into a plastic grocery bag and to the outside trash. For this reason also many items that would normally be kept in a cupboard or pantry are kept in the fridge. This is a huge annoyance in my life. Just imagine you've eaten a few grapes as a snack, now what do you do with the stem? That's right. To the back yard trash can you go with your little stem. Of course we don't have ant problems indoors.
In this household we also eat all food and beverages (minus water) at the kitchen table. No cozy cups of hot coco or tea by the fire (oh wait, we're not allowed to use the fireplace), or while watching a movie (oh, wait we don't watch movies). This of course has benefits. No crumbs laying around the floor or dirty dishes sitting on the coffee table waiting to be washed. One of the difficulties of no food leaving the kitchen is that after working a 12 hour day plus commuting it is difficult to scrounge around for something to eat, sit at the table, and get those food items to the trash especially since Granny sleeping in her room off the kitchen at that time. After several nights of no dinner and out of consideration to Granny I began using one of the dresser drawers in my walk in closet to keep a few snacks, A few granola bars, instant oatmeal, fig newtons etc.
Since we don't watch movies downstairs and we don't watch them on the TV upstairs (because the tv is over Granny's bedroom) we watch them in my room on a lap top. Late one night after watching a movie my sister and I got to chatting and the time ticked away. As it got really late we decided we had better head to bead when my sister heard a scratching noise. "What was that!" she whispered. I of course heard nothing. Then again she heard the noise. I asked her if she had some kind of wrapper in her pocket. Which of course she didn't. Then I realized the noise was coming from my closet. My sister began to freak out. But with an 87 year old downstairs, I knew we couldn't freak out. I tried to calm her with the worst case scenarios. "Laura, it's probably nothing." "Even if it's a possum, it's probably more afraid of us then we are of it." "Even if it's an ax murder the worst case scenario is, we're dead." As I tried to keep her calm, I kept my eye on the open door of the closet. We grew increasingly fearful! Then all of the sudden my eyes grew bigger and bigger as a long tail came up out of the dresser drawer. I scooted and inched my way back creating as much distance as I could between me and the creature. Laura, definitely thought I was looking into the eyes of an axe murder! I didn't know what it was, but it was something with a very long tail! After a few moments I crawled off the bed acting as our island and quickly shut the door. Then I stuffed a towel under the door so nothing could crawl over me while I was asleep. Then as any brave women would do, I called my Dad left him an emergency message and then slept with my sister in her room.
In an effort to keep this a secret from Granny the following morning my wonderful Mom and Dad drove an hour from their home under some kind of ruse of visiting to rescue us. While Granny was sidetracked with mom Dad and I snuck upstairs. Dad cleaned out the half eaten snacks and set traps. I was slightly mortified that in 2009 nothing other then the old fashioned Tom and Jerry mouse traps had been invented. I certainly did not want to have to deal with blood and guts. I decided to prepare the next day for the inevitble. I went to the hardware store and purchased rubber gloves, black trash bags, and a dustpan. After three sleepless nights and running out of clothes not in my closet, I had no choice but to open the closet door. I creaked the door open and leaned over the dresser drawer just enough to see that a piece of cheese was in a new location. As I leaned a bit further their it was... a little mouse. Poor Fievel, may he rest in peace. I was determined to handle the procedure of disposing of Fievel without Granny knowing. I put on my new rubber gloves, I got my black trash bag, and grabbed the dustpan. I inched my way back to the closet door and opened the door wide enough to peak through it again. I told myself to brave. After working at opening the door for a while I decided I needed a break and tried to enlist my sister's help. That certainly got nowhere. After half an hour of trying to convince myself I could do this. I did the next best thing and called in the real reinforcements. I got off the phone with my big sister Michelle and she drove an hour to come dispose of Fivel. She arrived before Granny went to bed and so we had to wait. As Granny chatted I worried, as soon as Granny headed to bed we headed upstairs. We waited until we thought she was asleep and then Michelle put Fievel in his body bag and then snuck him downstairs, past Granny's room, unlocked the three locks on the back door, quietly opened the door to keep the sleigh bells from ringing and out to the big trash barrel out back.
I guess Granny really does know best.
The food now stays in the fridge and the closet door is never left open.
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