Applying for a home loan is a pain. You have to produce a heap of documents - bank statements, tax returns, employment records, tallies of investment accounts - to prove the stability of your financial footing, then wait for a mortgage underwriter to comb through all of it before giving you the thumbs up. I spoke with one exasperated homebuyer who described the process as a "borderline invasion of privacy."
The makings of a midnight mouse snack were left in the middle of the living room floor of our vacation rental in Lake Tahoe: shredded paper and bits of granola, taken from an open backpack. The evidence was enough to lead some of my family to believe we weren't the only ones in the house. I'd seen similar rodent leftovers before, and my mind was made up.