Can't help you but I have a funny (and long) story to share.
Home alone, late at night in February 2002. Earlier I had made a bowl of popcorn and deposited the empty (large stainless steel) on the counter next to the oven. I was on the phone with a night owl friend, and doing dishes, and in my jammies.
I had the phone on my shoulder and I was washing a glass and it broke and cut my hand - bad! Just as I was wrapping a towel around my hand I heard a noise that sounded like needles falling on steel. While talking on phone and wrapping my bleeding hand, I saw a mouse in the popcorn bowl. The sound was him trying to jump out but he couldn't get high enough so he kept sliding back down. The bowl was part of a set of stacking bowls, so I grabbed the bowl that was the next size down and popped it on top of the bowl with the mouse. Then I grabbed a garbage bag, picked up both bowls and popped them into the garbage bag. I took the bag and put my parka on over my jammies, and went out to the van depositing the mouse/bowls/bag in the back of the empty van. I drove to the other side of the interstate (about 1/4 mile), and down a dirt road. Suddenly a mouse ran across the center console, jumped to the floor, then UP my pajama leg.
Bear in mind ... I'm STILL on the phone (and my girlfriend hasn't stopped talking so she is clueless about ANY of this)!!
I jammed on the breaks, put the van in park, threw the door open, jumped out into a snow back (bedroom slippers - not shoes) and started doing the slap dance. Picture that - 40 something woman in jammies and a parka doing a slap dance in a snow bank on a dirt road at about 1:00 AM on a cold February night (morning).
Mouse came out and went merrily on his way to freedom. Yippee. I named him Colonel (get it ... kernal of corn?).
Back to the van, drove home, gathered bowls in bag sans mouse and went back into the house. At that point my friend finally stopped telling me her woes and asked "so ... what did you do tonight?"
uhhh ... where to start???
Oh, the hand healed fine eventually. Hurt like the dickens for a long time though.