Years ago, when I was first married, we lived in a small two bedroom house. That we had mice soon became obvious. While we were eating, one kept poking his head out from under the refrigerator. I had a pellet gun pistol and blew his head off from my seat at the dining room table. Of course, I couldn't hope to wipe out all the mice that way, so I bought two traps, setting them under the sink in the kitchen before going to bed.
I'd just settled down to sleep when I heard, "snap, snap."
Two mice were in the two traps. I emptied them out, reset them, and went back to bed.
"Snap, snap."
Two more mice, reset the traps, back to bed. "Snap, snap."
Sixteen mice later, I finally got to sleep. I bought poison the next day. It worked better than the traps, and I didn't have to dispose of the dead mice. Since then, I've found that poison seems to be more effective than traps -- if you don't mind having your walls full of dead mice, that is.
