Its not the same for everyone

A while back, I was talking with my mom and some how our conversation turned to mice and mice traps. I told her I could never use the sticky pads because they are just mean and inhumane and make me feel bad for the mouse. This feeling is made worse by the fact that I had mice as pets when I was little.

At this point in the conversation, my mother looked at me confused. She had no recollection of it.

When I was younger, my mom worked at The University of Nebraska Medical Center in the research department. She worked with mice and rats on a daily basis.

*Side note: I went with her to work a couple times and during one trip she showed me how you humanely kill a mouse...you put a pen or object behind its head and pull its tail to break its neck. I was like 6. This may explain things about me...

Anyway, in one shipment of mice, there arrived a pregnant mouse. I guess they couldn't do testing on pregnant mice, so my mom brought her home. We created a cage for her and allowed her to have her babies. I remember there being 10 all together, but time could have created that number...regardless, there were many of them and my brother and I played with them just as you would a hamster. It was fun. My brother and I would sit in a straddle facing each other and play with the mice in the middle of us. We'd create obstacle courses and everything!

Eventually they grew up and my mom said we had to do something because they would soon start mating with one another.

We let them out in the forest of the park down the street. It was bitter sweet. I'm pretty sure I was over it rather quickly.

The point is, I have many distinct memories of this time. My mother has none. How odd.