My DH has form for this one.
Currently on holiday in a rented cottage where bathroom is downstairs.
Him: Umm... can you come and have a look at this?
Me: What...?
Him: Umm... I think there's a mouse in the bathroom... either that or it's a big moth
Me:
Well which is it? You know I don't do live mice...
Him: Not sure. So can you come and look?
(10yo DD appears from upstairs)
DD (ashen): What mouse?
Me: Dad thinks there's a mouse in the bathroom. Where exactly did you see it?
DH: Behind the bag of loo rolls.
Cue me, as per bloody usual, moving things and a small, brown furry torpedo shooting out of the bathroom and under the fridge.
DD: I don't like mice
Me: Go upstairs and close your door.
DD Off like a shot.
After much furniture shifting, broom rattling and torch waving about plus dog going demented, we finally decide that it's gone out of the door. Only time will tell, tomorrow morning could be interesting...
The last twice this happened we were at home and had our now sadly deceased cat. He caught them, played with them a little and then had presumably flattened them given the state they were in. He was found lying very proudly next to two rigor mortis mice by screaming DH . Guess who had the joy of removing the corpses...
My hero...