Well, one kind of mouse we draw pictures of wearing pretty clothing, write stories about, read stories to our children about and the other kind of mouse we KILL with mousetraps and peanut butter when they come slinking over the kitchen counter or try and lurk behind the television.

I sometimes wish I were more zen, more all loving, more considerate of my karma but let me tell you, I got no house room for mousey guests. Those unfortunate little suckers are going down.

But even so, now I’ve gone all twitchy reading this to my children while secretly slaughtering his tiny brothers and sisters. There seems some ethical inconsistency here that I haven’t quite come to terms with. I would like to respect life and give all creatures a fair place on this planet but NOT IN MY HOUSE. Okay, mice? Just go away and I promise not to come after you. I’ll even think you’re cute again.