One afternoon over winter break, a scream echoed through the house. Confused, my family and I hurriedly made our way toward my sister Isabelle’s bedroom, wondering what had be happened. Upon opening the door, we saw her looking panic- stricken. “There is a mouse in my laundry!” she screamed. “I just picked up a shirt to fold, and he fell out into the laundry basket.”
I stood in stunned disbelief at what I had just heard, but luckily, my brother John sprung into action. He ran toward the kitchen, quickly returning with tongs and a Tupperware container. He began prodding at the laundry with the tongs, picking up different items of clothing and inspecting them to see if the mouse was clinging to any. I watched as he grabbed a sweatshirt, one of the few untouched pieces of clothing, and the mouse tumbled off and back into the hamper.
Having finally located our new friend, John tried to grab it, stabbing with his tongs. After a tense minute or two, he succeeded and triumphantly dangled the mouse by its tail. He closed the lid tightly.
After we finished celebrating his victory, we were faced with the reality of our situation. We couldn’t simply let the
mouse outside because it would immediately come back in. We weighed our options, suggesting ideas like putting a mouse trap in the Tupperware or dropping the mouse off in the woods far away. But these ideas seemed either too cruel or involved us too directly.
Instead, I came up with a genius idea. The house we were staying in was a few minutes away from a barn. I happened to know that a friendly cat named Millie lived in the barn, and Millie’s only job was to catch mice that found their way inside. My brother and I agreed: Our best option was to present Millie oft with the mouse and let nature take its course.
The two of us got into the car, and I put the Tupperware on my lap. We drove a few minutes before arriving at the barn. We decided to show Millie what was inside the Tupperware and then take the top off to let her catch the mouse. When Millie saw what we had brought her, I set the Tupperware on the ground, took the lid off, and ran away quickly.
John and I watched in horror as the cat stood perfectly still and allowed the mouse to climb out and escape into the shadows. Disturbed by the knowledge that we had let a mouse loose in the barn, my brother so and I got back into the car to head home.
This mouse taught me a very valuable lesson: More is not always better. When faced with an issue, you shouldn’t I’d necessarily dream up some elaborate solution. Instead, the no simple answer, or the first one that comes to mind, is often the par best option. We could have just dropped the mouse back off in so the woods far away from the house, but instead, I tried to over- engineer a solution. In doing so, all I did was make the situation worse.
In the future, I look forward to sometimes doing the easiest thing, comfortable in the knowledge that the simplest fix is often the best.
