inÃ‚·fest (Ã„n-fÃ„”ºst') Pronunciation Key
- To inhabit or overrun in numbers or quantities large enough to be harmful, threatening, or obnoxious: rats infesting the sewers; streets that were infested with drugs.
As you may know, I am a high school teacher. My school is right in the center of middle class suburbia, and we are not hurting for resources. In fact, I have a school-issue laptop and have been promised a fancy new interactive smart board to be installed by the end of 2007.
Despite our greatness, my building has pest issues. First, mice were chewing through the candy in the vending machine and the secretary's desk. Then, a student found a dead mouse in his locker. Now the problem affects me, and I am perturbed.
The first time it happened, I was astounded but not overly disturbed. A largish mouse popped out from under my closet door, ran across the room, and jumped up into the heating vent. Yesterday, a student was trying to catch the itty bitty baby mouse that found its way into my closet when he accidentally stepped on it. We were sad, but relieved that the mouse was gone. Today, I have seen at least two, possible three, mice, all in my closet, scurrying about. The shelves and floor of my closet are littered with feces. I find this situation entirely repugnant.
I have complained to the office on each of the three days that I have seen rodents. I am not the only complainer. The custodian came down and cleaned up a little, and she offered me some glue traps. Glue traps are simply inhumane (for reasons that I shan't list here), but I have heard through the grapevine that we are not allowed to put out spring traps or poison because of some school district policy or state law or something. Whatever.
Is it better to work with vermin or to break the rules? I'm choosing the traps, and I'm doing it tomorrow. A neighboring teacher has offered to set and check them for me. (I am, after all, fundamentally a silly girl who doesn't want to be bothered with dead critters that I will invariably feel sad for.)
© 2007 – 2017, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.