Q: How many girls does it take to kill a mouse?

Question: How many girls does it take to kill a mouse?
Answer: At the residence of Beit Shilo: 3

You got it. Last night our quiet house was disrupted by a small little creature resembling Stuart Little, but not as friendly or cute. Where do i begin? About two weeks ago when my roommates were in the States for Christmas, i heard a little visitor in my trash can early one morning. I turned on my bedside lamp to find my new little house guest scurrying for the door, unsuccessful in his escape attempt and resorting to the little hole in the wall behind my bookshelf. Yes my new little friend kept me company all through Christmas and New Years, yet he kept to himself, foolishly making me think he had decided another room in our house was more fitting. Oh but to my surprise he decided to resurface last night. And to my dismay, this great land with gynormous rats and mice fails to produce a decent mouse trap. Instead of the familiar wooden traps, cheese and a surprising "SNAP," all that exists in Jerusalem is a flimsy piece of Styrofoam with sticky glue on the bottom. I purchased two of these so called "traps" two weeks ago when my visitor made his first appearance. But to my surprise, he didn't like peanut butter as first suggested. So i tried banana chips which i happened to have been snacking on the other day. These little chips interested my new friend, but when he ventured on to the sticky walkway....he was only tricked into thinking this was actually a trap, because he successfully managed to roll himself off of the glue, leaving me a small token of his gray coat as a souvenir. So, I tried the other trap i had, and loaded it with cheddar cheese (a rare commodity in this country). Within less than 2 minutes of me turning out my light....i heard scurrying, the Styrofoam dragging across my stone floor, and then nothing. When the light came on....no mouse, and no cheese. So i decided i needed to get a little smarter for Stuart Little. He obviously was getting a kick out of the meal that i had so conveniently provided for him and the stakes were now being raised. I decided to take this mouse "to the mattress." My willing roommate Rachel and I put on some shoes (i'm in my pajama's at this point) it's past 12:00 am and I have class early the next morning, it's raining outside, nevertheless, we trapse off to find an open store that sells mousetraps. After my embarrassing purchase at the 24 hour market (not knowing how to say mouse trap in Hebrew makes for a fun game of Charades, and a good laugh for the store clerk) Rachel and i were on our way back home to show this mouse who is boss. I loaded my two new "traps" with cheese and set them out as bait and waited. I was grateful for the silence that ensued for the next two hours...apparently Mr. Little had decided to take a snoozer which allowed me my only winks of sleep for the evening. and then it happened. It was 3:30 and I am awakened to that familiar sound of Styrofoam across my stone floor. I waited, and then heard it again. This time i wanted to make sure my little friend was stuck...but then it occurred to me, if he's stuck, and still making noise, he's still ALIVE! and SQUIRMING! and then the panic set in. I turned on my light to see little Stuart thrashing violently around on his little fly paper...and then the screeching began, note: screeching ensued by Stuart, Rachel, and myself. I had no idea what to do. No way in hell was i going to pick it up with him still alive....so the only thing to do of course... was to get Erin. Luckily she was still awake because she has a guest in town and they had been up chatting late into the evening. And to my saving grace, they had drank a few glasses of wine which i believe was the lifesaving element of the evening (perhaps it was Erin's courage, but I think the wine played a small role) Once Erin had stopped her screaming i handed her a broom and she took a swing at the "trap." unfortunately for us, Erin's not a golfer and missed the target, instead, getting the broom stuck to the glue. So now our little Stuart has leverage to help pry his squirmy little body off of the trap. and he's making progress quickly. So Rachel and I scan our rooms quickly to find another weapon. Thanks to the other hero in the story, Rachel has very large feet. Size 11. And she just happened to bring back new knee high boots for Christmas. Rachel quickly grabbed for the boot and passed it along to me. Erin graciously volunteered me to take a whack at Stuart. By this time I should have mustered up enough loathing for him to take it out on his little head, but no....I"m a chicken. I passed the boot on to Erin and after her muttering" forgive us Lord for killing this thing" (no joke, we prayed first) Erin swung and whacked little Stuart right over the head. Bravo Erin, she's really the hero of the story. But the story doesn't end yet, we thought little Stuart was just in shock and because we all lacked the guts to swing at him again, we frantically ran to the back yard, with the broom, still attached to the Styrofoam, with unconscious Stuart riding along....we thew the whole broom outside and shut the door! Great cheering and celebration followed. Forgiveness was asked by all for the sinful amount of swearing that accompanied our battle, and relief was had by all.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't know exactly how many mice were in my room. I feared that Stuart had brought friends with him during his two week stay and my ears were perked for the next three hours while i lay awake in bed. I had too much adrenaline in my blood at this point and even the slightest creek in our house launched my head straight up in bed to see what the "commotion" was about. Thankfully, I have not had another visitor. I guess word got out that i'm not big on sharing my room. It just wasn't big enough for the two of us. So, after a long day of class, with little to almost no sleep, I wearily write this email to inform you all of the answer to my big question. How many girls does it take to kill a mouse? One to supply the room and trap, two to have the big feet with big boots, and three to drink wine and swing at will, ending the bellagon which we call, life in Jerusalem!