So I’m in the physician’s office waiting for my H1N1, and the home decor magazine in my hands has an article about paint colors with clever names. That was the gist of the article: not merely new paint colors, but the clever names of these paint colors. I suspect that in about six months, the fact that Americans study home decor magazines is going to seem odd. And an entire article devoted to the names of paint? This probably is going to seem downright bizarre. But back to the paint, I mean, the point. One of the clever colors of paint was: Mouse Back. It’s true, I assure you. Some paint company actually named an interior color Mouse Back . . . that perfect gray-brown for the gallery wall in your weekend home near Glen Cove. You’re picturing it now, aren’t you?
I love a mouse, I really do. They’re cute -- adorable, in fact. Notwithstanding the potential for disease, who doesn’t love a mouse? I’m not talking rodents of unusual size; I’m talking little field mouse. But is there a limit to my mouse love? One occasional mouse-in-the-house is a charming prospect. But let’s face facts. There is never, never-ever just one mouse. They come with their mouse friends, they come with cousins . . . with complete mouse strangers. Mice are not socially clickish. So at what point must one draw that line in the sand, or at the threshold, so to speak? I’m not sure that I can kill a mouse. Rat, yes; mouse, no. Thus, what steps can and should ensue to politely suggest that the mouse-back guests go on their mousy way? What mouse measures should be considered? A pied piper? The lure of an off-premises mouse house? A mouse-dominium? We can only speculate.
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