ALKHOBAR, 31 July 2007 — My thermometer indicates that it is 50 degrees outside (122 F) which means that it is too hot to even contemplate computing. So let us discuss a mouse instead. No, I do not mean a handheld pointing device used with a computer. I want to tell you about a diminutive rat that took up residence in my kitchen a few weeks ago. I came into contact with said mouse one morning as it was helping itself to some rigatoni from a bag in my pantry.
No, I did not scream and jump on top of a chair when I eyeballed the mouse. In fact, I pulled on some industrial strength rubber gloves and smacked the little beastie into a wall. I need to go back to weightlifting because the blow had no effect on the creature. It scampered out of the kitchen and disappeared into the living room.
Despite summoning rodent catching reinforcements in three adults and four cats, and proceeding to tear the living room apart, we couldn’t find the mouse. My husband assured me that he would handle the extermination that evening, and so I left him to it.
Four days later, despite my significant other’s use of two mean looking traps and a tube of mouse catching glue, the rat was still alive and well. Yes, I know the creature started off in this article as a mouse but after four days in my kitchen, eluding traps, it had transformed into a whopper of a rodent. Not surprisingly, since it had been escaping my spouse’s trapping efforts, he had concluded that my rat was really a teensy, weensy mouse.
Nevertheless, I decided that it was either me or the rat in the house and it was time for some online research. I had no interest in live catch traps. Our house is in a construction area and every time a foundation for a new house is prepared, hundreds of mouse burrows are dug up, sending rodents fleeing to all corners of the district. Online sources assured me that peanut butter was the preferred bait and I needed one trap for every three feet of floor area. Next, a trip to the hardware store was in order.
I must state that my husband is a very patient, understanding man. As I piled my shopping cart high with traps, poison and mouse catching devices of every sort, he never interfered. In fact, he went and got a salesman to help me in my quest for total pest annihilation. To the raised eyebrows of passing shoppers and even the checkout clerk, he calmly replied, “There’s a mouse in the house.” Eight hundred riyals later, I was ready to ensure that the rat didn’t survive another night on this earth, and that we never had any other rodent visitors.
I went home and locked up our useless, overfed cats who had been unable to eliminate one rat, and then proceeded to set out 50 traps all over the downstairs of our house. The tool shed got the rat poison and I plugged in three sonic pest chasers, too. By sunrise the rat was caught, and I was whistling a happy tune as I packed away the mousetraps.
But then something unexpected happened. The housemaids started acting strangely. I assured them that the rat was gone and there would be no more, but this did nothing to remove the frowns from their faces. After another day of angry looks, I asked what I had done that had made them so upset.
“You installed video cameras to spy on us,” the older maid, Miriam, blurted out. “We don’t like it that you don’t trust us.”
I was completely at a loss for words. The truth is that our home has a security system and video surveillance of our entire premises has been standard for years. The maids knew this. It had never been a secret and the agency advised them of it when they came to work for us.
“What are you talking about, Miriam,” I inquired. “The security cameras have always been here.”
“No,” she answered, pointing to one of the sonic pest chasers. “You put these new cameras in yesterday and we don’t like them.”
I was flabbergast and did the worst thing possible. I started laughing. I laughed so hard that I was on my knees holding my sides, hardly able to breathe. By the time I wiped my eyes and controlled myself again, the two maids were staring at me angrier than ever.
Realizing that a mutiny was just about in progress, I told them to wait and ran upstairs to bring down the packaging from the dual speaker Sonic PestChasers. Fortunately there was a drawing of mice and the device on the package inserts. To further explain the purpose of the ultrasonic devices, I brought up the website for the manufacturer. There were smiles all around then, and the maids went back to housecleaning.
Speaking with a friend, Allison, later that afternoon, I was informed that I’d made a silly mistake.
“Your housemaids don’t pay any mind to the security cams all over the house, but they start working with diligence in front of the rodent repellers. You had the perfect situation to motivate them to new heights of domestic duty and you messed it up,” Allison teased me. “I’m going out today and get me some rodent repellers to propel my maid into a housecleaing frenzy ”
So there you have it. Technology that becomes ubiquitous and in your face all the time is simply taken for granted and accepted, while new technology, which may be quite useful, is looked upon with suspicion and even feared. Understanding of course is usually the key to acceptance and adoption. I’m sure that mouse would still be alive today, if it had understood the importance of snacking on the peanut butter without putting a paw onto the sticky paper.
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