Mice that are not so nice

Our backyard is a wheat field, and since our lovely state is in a drought, we have mice.  I never thought myself to be one of those women who would jump on a chair screaming because she spied a mouse.  But, alas, I am one of those women.  I knew myself to be terrified of roaches.  And perhaps grasshoppers, but not mice.  Then one sweet day, as I was cleaning out the pantry, one tiny little  mouse creature jumped up and scurried across the floor.  I screamed like no other.  Almost as loudly as when the rooster attacked.  Well, I found a dead mouse in the pantry this morning.  And, SERIOUSLY!  Can't they go somewhere other than there?!  That is just gross.  Thankfully, everything I have happens to be in Tupperware so they can't eat anything, but *gag*.  Well, this dead thing was not tiny.  It was so big that it was wedged in the trap, and I couldn't get it out.  There were bodily fluids on the floor underneath the dead mouse (insert shudder here).  And, well, gross.  Just gross.  I threw the mouse and trap away and got out the bleach.  After all was restored, I went about my morning hating the life of living in the country.  As I was making waffles (and eating them), I got a bit too engrossed in the book I was reading (as I was eating) and let a waffle burn.  I dumped the steaming, very dark waffle into the trash and a few seconds later, I smelled it.  Can you guess?  Ugh.  I pretty much cooked the dead mouse.  Stupid vermin.