The Night Watchman and the Mouse with a Mohawk

I don't know about you, but I do not sleep well, and that's not just since I've had kids. I have never been a good sleeper. It's crazy, because I am tired all of the time, and I always have been. Yet, I am able to function on as little as three hours of sleep.
Could be a messed up internal clock. Could be insomnia (nah, because there are times when I do sleep...). Hormones? Yeah sure. Blame it on them. Insane ability to hear every single sound in the house all at once?
Bingo.
Don't ask me why or how. It just happens, as it always has. Once the house goes quiet, I hear everything. I chock it up to the fact that I am nearly legally blind and have had to rely on my hearing for much of my life. It's as if my ears, which are not big, can zero in on even the weakest sound wave bouncing around in the air.
Those little sounds keep me awake at night. I like to think I am The Night Watchman, keeping my loved ones safe as they slumber--hey, it makes me feel better. If I hear something out of the ordinary, I can take care of it (or at least awaken my husband to see what it is). It's a silly way of reasoning with myself that I am not crazy and yet I have a mission as I lay in my bed, eyes wide open.
Case in point: the mouse. Recently I have been hearing little scratching sounds as I try to sleep. In between the baby's cries and my husband's snores, my ears have been catching this foreign sound, something that sounds different from the steam pipes banging  with heat, the wood floors creaking as they settle, my son's blankets rustling as he settles in his bed, and the heavy sighs of the dog downstairs. No, this is a little sound, and man is it annoying.
So I set some traps. Nada. I have found some 'evidence' of this creatures existence, but I hadn't seen him.
Until tonight.
After watching Dancing with the Stars (Team Gavin!) alone tonight in my living room, I decided to enjoy my time and catch up on some of my HubPages and Facebook stuff. As I sat there, enjoying the peace, this little round thing scurried across my floor.
Argh. I got up to see where it went to. When I moved, it moved back to its starting point. That time, I got a better view of it: Zhu Zhu pet look-alike with a mohawk. No kidding.
So here I am. That bastard (excuse the French) now has me awake, no, wide awake. No way am I going to be able to go to bed and hear it having a jolly good ol' time in my house. Not in my house.
What did I do? Tore my living room apart. Cleaned like I have never cleaned before (much to my delight, I found the area quite clean already--pat on the back). Did laundry. Did the dishes. And now I am writing this,   keeping watch of the floor in case my pest decides to come out again.
Oh, and I'm armed and dangerous, with a broom.
I'll be setting more traps tomorrow.