Four words you never want to hear, especially coming from your neighbor down the hall:
"Do you have mice?"
Mice. MICE. Ohgodohgodohgod. Don't get me wrong, I'm not naive. Living in a 46-story box filled with hundreds of people in the middle of the one of the most congested cities in the world, there's bound to be rodents. JUST NOT IN MY APARTMENT. Roaches? Fine. There isn't a single place in this city that's roach-free. (Luckily we seem to keep them at bay. Fear not, visiting guests.) But trust me, nothing is guaranteed to send shudders down the spine of a soon-to-be-parent faster than the implication that their home might be filled with the pitter-patter of tiny non-human feet. I'm hoping the scent of our two vaguely porcine house cats will discourage them from entering but who knows? So far I haven't seen any evidence of mousiness. No icky little droppings, no chew holes in our Cheerios... Trust me, I'll be keeping an eye out.