Is this becoming "that blog about the rats"? Awesome. Because, honestly, writing about vermin has been a secret ambition of mine. Becky asked for an update, though, and I must give the people what they want.
So right after I posted the update last night, I sat in our living room with my feet tucked under me and waited for Jason to come home. (Incidentally, my neighbor Jules, who reads this blog, emailed me this morning to check on me and said she thought she heard a scream, but thought it was one of the kids. So that gives you an idea of my volume!) So Jason came home within about ten minutes. He came in, sat down beside me and said, "Are you okay?" And then I promptly burst into tears. Like a little girl. A wee, little, crybaby crying girl. Do you ever have those experiences? Where your reaction to an event is completely disproportionate and irrational? You know that it's irrational, but you still feel how you do. It's like the rational, realistic side of me is watching the blubbering, snotty me. And the rational me says, "Amy, this rat is not going to hurt you or the kids. It can't hurt you or the kids. You will deal with this. It will be okay." And the blubbering me grabs the rational me by the collar and shakes her, saying,"Shut up! Can't you see I'm freaking out here? This is the most awfulest day ever on the whole planet and I cannot live in this house anymore!!!"
Do you ever do that? Yeah, anyway. It wasn't my most mature moment.
So, I've mentioned before that we have a massive pantry, and after some investigation last night, Jason determined how the *creature* is getting in. There is a pipe that comes through the back wall and there is a little space between the sheetrock and the pipe. So they're not actually living in the pantry, but there is a way in from outside. Jason left a trap last night, and sure enough in the morning, there was one less rat left standing. Jason called the rental agency first thing this morning. They've already sent someone out several days ago, but obviously there is still an issue. "Tell them that your wife is about to lose it!" I told him. "Tell them that I am nearly phobic! Tell them I am looking at other houses for rent! Make me sound like a total nutcase if you have to!" He nodded and said soothing words, like you do when you're talking to a total nutcase. I don't think it would be a hard sell at this point.
So that's the update, Beck. The hole is barricaded, the exterminator has been called, and I am calmer now. Slightly. But I still won't go in the pantry. Jason said, "But what if there's something in there that you need today?" And I said, "Then I will go to the grocery store and buy it." He nodded and said soothing words.