Friday, September 2, 2011

Italian > Rat

The bug man told me I had a rat in my AC closet. I didn't believe him. 

But I let him set a trap anyway, because it made him feel better and because there was a teeny chance he was right. I felt a little bad, but really, if the rat would just live outside where he/she belongs, everything would be okay for both of us.

Guess what?  The bug man was right.  Apparently he's pretty good at his job.

Unfortunately, it took about a week for his vindication to occur.  During which time I decided he was definitely wrong, and stopped checking the trap.

Then, rather suddenly, there was this funny smell in the house . . . .  Uh oh. 

It lingered a bit after the clean-up, so I overrode it by making chicken cacciatore. Now the house smells like an Italian restaurant, instead.

R.I.P., little rat.

1 comment:

  1. A feast for a dead it! I'm hearing the echo of James Cagney's voice off in the distance: "that dirty...rat".


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