I am faintly horrified.

Anyone got a boa constrictor or python I can borrow?

So, yeah, Da Boy knocks on my bedroom door at 9am (which is an hour before I usually get up when the Hubby's off on a three-day trip, which he is now) and proceeds to tell me that "we have a rat."

Rather impatiently (because, seriously, not at my best that time of the morning), I shoo him back downstairs after informing him that he must be mistaken and that it was probably just a gopher (which we have ongoing problems with and are old hat), and what did he expect me to do about it right this minute anyway? It couldn't wait an hour?

I eventually wander downstairs to find him peering out the front window. "See?" he says triumphantly.

Why, yes. Yes, I do. You did not inform me, child, that the creature you saw was in the front yard. That was important information. I still might have dismissed it as over-active imagination (I should learn to trust my men more, because I had the same reaction to the Hubby one year when he informed me that we had a bear in the tree right over the Jeep we were sleeping in at 2am, camping--and I figured it was probably a raccoon until I saw it and realized that THERE HAD BEEN A BEAR NOT THREE FEET AWAY FROM ME WHILE I SLEPT IN A JEEP WITH AN OPEN BACK), and wondered if our mice (which are, thankfully, gone) had moved around to the front, but I wouldn't have had the immediate thought of "gopher."

This is no gopher. This is a rat, y'all. And not a little rat, or a muskrat, either. It's a rat the size of a fucking soda can. And it's apparently taken up residence under my front porch.

I just hope the damned thing didn't bring along friends and relatives, because holy shit.

The mice were tolerable. The occasional (garter) snake is freakin' awesome. I love the ducks. I don't mind the mild odor of skunk wafting over the neighborhood. The muskrats in the canal a block away are adorable. The gophers are a nuisance and I don't like them much, but I don't have a KILL IT WITH FIRE reaction.

But I draw the line at gorram rats.

And yes, I realize that, considering the mouse problem we had not that long ago, I should perhaps create a "vermin" tag.

Hey, there, you big beady-eyed bastard:

I am faintly horrified.

Anyone got a boa constrictor or python I can borrow?

So, yeah, Da Boy knocks on my bedroom door at 9am (which is an hour before I usually get up when the Hubby's off on a three-day trip, which he is now) and proceeds to tell me that "we have a rat."

Rather impatiently (because, seriously, not at my best that time of the morning), I shoo him back downstairs after informing him that he must be mistaken and that it was probably just a gopher (which we have ongoing problems with and are old hat), and what did he expect me to do about it right this minute anyway? It couldn't wait an hour?

I eventually wander downstairs to find him peering out the front window. "See?" he says triumphantly.

Why, yes. Yes, I do. You did not inform me, child, that the creature you saw was in the front yard. That was important information. I still might have dismissed it as over-active imagination (I should learn to trust my men more, because I had the same reaction to the Hubby one year when he informed me that we had a bear in the tree right over the Jeep we were sleeping in at 2am, camping--and I figured it was probably a raccoon until I saw it and realized that THERE HAD BEEN A BEAR NOT THREE FEET AWAY FROM ME WHILE I SLEPT IN A JEEP WITH AN OPEN BACK), and wondered if our mice (which are, thankfully, gone) had moved around to the front, but I wouldn't have had the immediate thought of "gopher."

This is no gopher. This is a rat, y'all. And not a little rat, or a muskrat, either. It's a rat the size of a fucking soda can. And it's apparently taken up residence under my front porch.

I just hope the damned thing didn't bring along friends and relatives, because holy shit.

The mice were tolerable. The occasional (garter) snake is freakin' awesome. I love the ducks. I don't mind the mild odor of skunk wafting over the neighborhood. The muskrats in the canal a block away are adorable. The gophers are a nuisance and I don't like them much, but I don't have a KILL IT WITH FIRE reaction.

But I draw the line at gorram rats.

And yes, I realize that, considering the mouse problem we had not that long ago, I should perhaps create a "vermin" tag.

Hey, there, you big beady-eyed bastard:

In other, other news...

I am wondering idly how one goes about attempting to hire a hitman. As the approachee, not the approach-er. Especially since, in this little 'verse I've created, the supernatural set has its own ways of dealing with problems that arise.

Hm. I may have something--something that will even put Ben in a killing mood. We'll see what it turns into. Hey, Ben, try not to get kidnapped. Or die. Okay? And let's see if we can keep this one under 5000 words...

Also, GIP.

In other, other news...

I am wondering idly how one goes about attempting to hire a hitman. As the approachee, not the approach-er. Especially since, in this little 'verse I've created, the supernatural set has its own ways of dealing with problems that arise.

Hm. I may have something--something that will even put Ben in a killing mood. We'll see what it turns into. Hey, Ben, try not to get kidnapped. Or die. Okay? And let's see if we can keep this one under 5000 words...

Also, GIP.