rats in the camp

Be warned, this story is not for the light of heart.

I’m was working at the home office this morning, chatting with the roommate (also named Katie) who has Tuesdays off, and she casually asks me when I plan to have the exterminator, Joe, The Magnificent, out to the house again. This is an odd question because I had recently sent Joe several texts and frantic phone calls about some dead cockroaches to which he calmly replied, “I can’t help where they die, I just make sure they’re not alive for you.” Sweet Joe. But never once in this ordeal did Katie seem concerned about the rodents. Just crazy me.

But when I found out why she was so concerned today, the room started spinning and breaths became thin.

She reached down to the bottom shelf of our make-shift Ikea pantry, where she keeps her organized mini bags of snacks to take to the hospital, and pulled out six Ziplocs. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, for weeks now, snacks have been disappearing. {Thank you for sparing my heart, Kate.} Tiny holes are in corners of most of the baggies, and tiny crumbs take the place of once-scrumptious almonds and cookies. They vanished as if by magic, replaced by little poops. Flashbacks from my chewed-up nap blanket in the back of my mom’s car darkened my mind. Over twenty years later and the horrific mouse memory still sends ice to my heart. “The evil ones are here,” my mind whispered. It was totally a Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings moment for me. I could feel the presence of the tiny little dark lords.

{Stop thinking what you’re thinking. I’m not being that dramatic.}

Katie and I quickly took pictures of the evidence and I sent them off to Joe…

photo 1 photo 2 photo 3

Joe has rid our home of the worst (aka cockroaches) in the past and there’s no one I’d rather trust for this giant task. He’s the kind of exterminator you can call friend and have on speed dial. I like that.

His Report: “I think you have some baby rats on your hands.”

NOT what a work from homer wants to hear. To me that means,

  • when I get up in the middle of the night for water, there were rats scurrying right by my feet
  • when I eat food from my pantry, it probably has rat cooties on it, and
  • while I’m sitting here innocently at my desk, the rats are plotting their next mission into my camp
  • and they’ve probably walked all over my toothbrush too. Of course.

These things are not okay…not okay at all. So come on over, Joe. Help make my camp safe again!

and so it goes,
katie

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