I smell a rat!

I thought Husband was going to bump me off last night. He crept in to our darkened bedroom wearing rubber gloves, carrying a bucket, trowel, torch, paper towel, disinfectant and a garbage bag.

But then he whispered that the rat trap had gone off in the attic.

I’d been wondering what that funky smell was when I got home. I put it down to the fact that every single member of the family seems to have toilet flush button amnesia (drives me fricking crazy).

So I flushed the fricking toilets, took a sleeping tablet (waaaay too hyper from my new job) and crashed in bed.

Then Husband appeared, looking all ominous, and explained the source of the funk.

He whispered the news because I gave our eldest nightmares after telling her about the gnawing, scrabbling sounds I’d been hearing in the night. You’d think gnawing, scrabbling sounds would be nuthin’ to a nine-year-old who’s watched all the Lord of The Rings movies, but scurrying rodents freaked the crap out of her.

I was already halfway to la-la land. So, when I realised he wasn’t going to kill me, I gave him a dopey wave, rolled over and left him to it.

He struggled manfully into the attic and did some lonely retching while scooping the decaying body into the plastic bag and snuck it into the wheelie bin.

At least, that’s what I’m presuming he was doing because I was snoring.

Voila! No more funky smell … until the piss and poo builds up again in the downstairs toilet again.

Geez it annoys me that nine years after I started birthing them I still have to dispose of my kids’ bodily expulsions every day. I thought that would end with the nappies.

But no, I was dreaming.

Oh, and rats in my attic are a bit of a drag too. Husband thinks perhaps I shouldn’t be mentioning them to people, in case their question our hygiene.

But what would I blog about if I worried about what people thought?

PS It was weird how cute all the rats were when I started searching for an image. I don’t really associate rats with cute.