Right about now, I am wishing I had a cat. Not just any cat but a cat with a fetish for mice! This time of the year, the mice seem to congregate in my kitchen pantry eating everything they can get their little mouths on. I have invested in tins and plastic containers to store dry food such as noodles, popcorn and dry soup. Not to be deterred, the little darlings have started munching the labels on the cans -- how much nutrition is there in a piece of paper, apparently a lot. I hate doing it but I set several mousetraps since I do not want my home infested with several generations of these creatures. Unfortunately, within minutes of setting the traps, one was caught but not DOA. Instead, it just cried. I cried too. I wish I could speak to the king or queen of mice and negotiate a deal wherein I would provide them three squares a day if they would live across the street.