mousetrap clown car

It will be of no surprise to anyone that I don't like the idea of glue traps, snap traps or poison, so when I saw a little grey mouse pop out of the stove, I ignored it. But mice are noisy and we were forced to take action. Enter the humane trap. I'm wise to the sneaky manoeuvrings of mice and opted for the sticky peanut butter approach (thanks to josh's advice about 10 years ago) over an easily snagged bit of apple or cheese.
The traps would shut mysteriously with nothing in them and the peanut butter not eaten, so I was coming around to the fact that something else needed be done.
One evening, I went into the kitchen and found the trap shut as usual. I picked it up, shook it-- it was very light--and opened the hatch. A mouse jumped out and disappeared behind the counter. The humane trap was vindicated as an effective mouser, but I was not.
The next time I found the trap shut, I didn't open it and this time when I shook it, there was definitely some movement.
Off I go to the park (far away from the apartment) to humanely let my mouse go. I put the trap down and lifted the hatch and out shot a little grey mouse. But as I was lifting the trap to leave, filled with a sense of goodwill to all animal kind, two more jumped out. Three mice! Apart from absolutely scaring the pants off me, which was perhaps a cunning plan on the part of the trio, it doesn't seem too smart to crowd into a dark enclosed space with two other mice. I, for one, will take away the lesson that cramped conditions and free peanut butter may seem like a safe bet--especially when you're doing it with friends-- but will most likely end an unplanned trip to the park.