Morning. Breakfast. Coffee. Brush your teeth. A mouse in the bath. A MOUSE IN THE BATH?! I don't know how Nick and the boys didn't see the miniature monstrosity jumping around and scrabbling to sink its claws into the slippery sides, but I was the unfortunate discoverer of today's fun. I called in reinforcements...the three men stood staring at the mouse for some time. I pointed out that I needed to get on with my lavations - "yes, you go and shower", said Nick, forgetting that we only have one bathroom. So, just me and the mouse. I checked on it regularly - the only thing worse than knowing it was there, would have been discovering it was no longer there. I devised a plan though, involving something for it to run up and out of the window. I scratched around in the wash and found a pair of Aaron's trackpants. Perfect. Made sure the mesh was on the inside so the mouse didn't get snagged on the way up; set up my cunning contraption, called the menfolk back to observe the brilliance. The only thing I didn't anticipate was that the mouse decided to run up the inside of the pants, thus ensuring certain entrapment in the holy fabric. Bother. What to do? Toss the other leg of the pants out the window then stare helplessly, waiting for the creature to emerge? No. Aaron set to action - found appropriate footwear and proceeded to shake the garment vigorously. I could just imagine the poor mouse being tossed about, utterly helpless and completely unable to extricate itself. Hmm.