I wasn’t feeling my best Thanksgiving Day, but the kid was determined to start decorating for Christmas. So, I dragged my wretched body out the storage shed and hauled in two boxes and what I thought was the tree. I put them in the kitchen, left them alone and then declared myself done with the whole ordeal. I calmly went back to the couch and continued feeling miserable.
Cut to a scene ten minutes later. The wife (D) opens the largest box and pulls out the tree skirt. She notices it has holes in it, but nothing prepares us for what happens next: the rodent who charged out of the box, ran across my wife’s foot and disappeared. There were yells, screams, I won’t say I saw my wife push our nine year old daughter (E) out of the way and hurdle the back of the couch, but I have vague memories of that. I ran and grabbed the broom. All miserable feelings were instantly replaced with a desire to rid the house of the rodent. The broom soon becomes a croquet mallet E had used for Halloween when she went as Harley (the DC Comic Girls Harley) because I’ve read The Shining and we didn’t have a roque mallet.
We ended up running to Wal-Mart and getting every type of rat catching device they had. The yorkie and I placed them all around the house. We went to bed that night, all of us in one bed, two adults, the 9 yo, two shih tsus and the yorkie. I had to work the real job the next day of course and D and E had tickets to show and went. I made it home first and was disappointed that I did not find a dead rodent in one of our ingeniously placed traps.
So I went on the hunt for it. The yorkie had it cornered, or so we thought. D and E get home and we decide to go to bed after a futile hunt that destroyed the kitchen.
Here ends part one. Part two will be posted soon.