I've been drawn to leopard prints this week, and I think I've figured out why: I'm channeling my inner cat-woman. Check it out: we have a mouse in our house, and it's not as cute as it sounds. He ate my cheez-its and I looked past it. He chewed a hole in one of my couch cushions, I got a little annoyed and set some traps, but still it was no big deal. Then, he messed up. He went after my shoes and now I'm pissed. You can eat my food, you can ruin my furniture, but do not touch my footwear. I always had a soft spot for Jerry in the old cartoons, but now I am 100% Team Tom. Mice are jerks. Ben and I have invested in every mouse trap on the market, from the old-school snap traps to the more humane sticky traps... and until then, my shoes are packed in a duffle bag. I won't rest until that little rodent is dead and my heels are safe once again.