So, we survived our quiet Thanksgiving dinner, just the 4 of us. Lucy mostly snored throughout the entire meal so we were thankful that we didn't have to listen to her bark, moan, whine as we were trying to enjoy the delicious spiral ham and all the fixings I had made. Yes, that's right. You read it correctly. *I* cooked an entire Thanksgiving meal. By my ownself. Mashed potatos and gravy, stuffing (do you know how hard it is to stuff a ham?), fresh steamed asparagus, corn on the cob, rolls. And I served it on the fancy good china instead of the usual Corelle. Oh, I had to wash all the china first on account that it has been sitting unused and untouched in my china cabinet since it was bequeathed to me several years ago but it looked lovely once the decade of dust had been washed off.
Of course the kids bickered throughout the entire meal and Thing 1 had already had one Thanksgiving dinner with his "other" family but other than that, it was lovely. And afterwards, I cleaned the kitchen all by myself. TheManTheMyth was flabbergasted that not only did we have this fancy meal without me having any sort of meltdown (I NEVER have meltdowns! Piss and moan and bitch and cuss, yes, but meltdowns? Not I!) but that I cleaned up afterwards and did the dishes and everything. Yeah, I don't know what came over me, either.
This morning, still in the glow of the lovely dinner, the menfolk are getting ready to head out to the desert for a weekend of riding and I'm sitting on the sofa reading the morning paper while Lucy was sawing logs in her bed. And I hear something. I hear a funny noise coming from the kitchen. Kind of a knocking, scratching, clawing, gnawing sound. I go into the kitchen and I'm standing there listening to these sounds and my heart is sinking because I know that sound and I hate that sound and everything it represents.
Yep, the goddamn rats are back. Over the years we've had a problem with rats because of where we happen to live. I've seen rats climb out of the storm drain in front of our house, I've seen them running on the telephone wires at dusk and I've seen them in my very own house whereupon I screamed like a girl and leaped onto a chair. We had to call the exterminator when TheManTheMyth opened the pantry door early one morning and one jumped down from the shelf and went running through a teeny-tiny hole the size of a quarter underneath our bottom cabinets.
We've put traps out, which work just fine most of the time except when they don't and you know when they don't when you hear the trap snapping and then the sound of the trap being dragged across the floor because the thing trapped in it is still alive and only caught by the tail or leg and it's trying to escape and I get all freaked out and demand that TheManTheMyth Do Something about it. It's been a year or two since our last invasion and obviously they decided it's time to make another attack on my house.
Back when Lucy could still see, she caught several on her own and we were very proud but now that she can't see for beans and spends the majority of her days and nights snoring happily away, I can't rely on her for exterminator duty.
So. I'm in the kitchen listening to these nasty, disturbing sounds and the menfolk have just pulled away from the curb and it sounds as if IT is getting ready to pop out of a cupboard or drawer and there's no way in hell I'm going to open a cupboard or drawer and have this thing jump out at me and I'm thinking what the hell is a rat doing up at this time of day because aren't they nocturnal and shouldn't it be in bed by now instead of in my kitchen and what the hell am I going to do?
I did what any self-respecting wife would do and call TheManTheMyth, who is probably just about to get on the freeway towing a 28 foot toyhauler and I'm all "You HAVE to turn around and come back, there's a RAT in the cupboards!" and he's all, "Are you freaking kidding me?" and I'm all, "No! Come back and get rid of it!" and he's all, "Sic Lucy on it!" and I'm all, "She's snoring and she can't see anything and I don't want to have to witness a fight to the death between a blind Lab and a big ass rat!" and he's all "Oh Jesus Christ I don't believe this!" and hangs up and I'm thinking I'm screwed here.
A few minutes later, he and Thing 1 come walking in the door all "where is it?" and I point them in the direction of the kitchen and yep, the little bastard is still clawing and gnawing away and TheManTheMyth flings open cupboards and drawers and... Nothing. There's nothing there. But we can HEAR it. Which means the little fucker is in the walls. TheManTheMyth kicks the toekick under the cabinets, plops down a trap and box of rat poison and says "Here ya go. Use them" and then he and Thing 1 jump back in the truck and drive off, leaving me with nothing more than ONE trap, a box of rat bait and a blind, senile (but happy) Lab to defend myself and my home against an Army of Invading Rodents. And since rats are ALWAYS on the Friends and Family Plan, I think I'm going to need reinforcements. And lots of likker. Which won't do anything for the rats unless they like a nice dry martini but it will help me get through the next few days until TheManTheMyth returns to do his husbandly duties and KILL THAT RAT.