While cooking recently, Sarah thought she saw a mouse run under the stove. Thwacking a broom handle around under there didn't send anything scurrying back out.

With each passing day since then, she's less certain about what exactly she saw. Maybe a big bug. Not, however, "a giant piece of lint" as I suggested.

I thought about saying that mice are rare on the third floor, but honestly, I don't know what I'm talking about. Sarah once (and only once) saw a mouse in the kitchen of Young and I's old place, which was also on the third floor. For a year after that, whenever she was heading into that kitchen she'd yell, "Mouse!" Not as a scream, but a command. "Mouse! I'm coming in Mouse! Get out of here! I don't want to see you! Mouse!"

Rat-killing pellets have been bought, so, we'll see what happens.

Sarah: But if it wasn't a mouse, they won't do anything.
Me: Probably not.
Sarah: I wish they made something that just kills everything over this [holds finger and thumb apart] size.
Me: That would include us.
Sarah: Well, we'd tell it not to kill us.