Whatever Happened to Broccoli and His Rat?


Maybe you saw a video I posted to Facebook very late Wednesday night. It was simply captioned:

I’m going to set my house on fire.

Because that seemed reasonable at the moment.

In fact, it’s still sort of a good idea.

So yeah… we’re not great with vermin and didn’t help the cause at all. I admit it. It was late, I was tired, and the only reason we even have cats is that back in 2011 we really did have a rat and mouse problem and I grabbed Sparky from the pound and she went on a murderous rampage. She eliminated all the rats and a couple of lizards too.

She’s a very effective cat… a good eater too.

In any event, after I screamed and the rat got loose (my bad) I did a quick Facebook update. Here’s the video:

And then it went down. And by down I mean downhill. Like a spiral. And it was terrible and I was up until 3 am. Mercifully my husband was out of town so only my son had his Thursday hijacked by lack of sleep.

This is long…. the comments are wildly entertaining though.

We sealed off the bedroom door. My son slept in my daughter’s bedroom and my daughter and I shared a bed the first night. We left Sparky in my son’s room, hopeful that she’d kill the rat. When we awoke and there was no dead rat we decided to open the door and I ran to the hardware store for snap traps.

36 hours later there was still no dead rat. We were grossed out and dejected. We also had to keep doors shut so that pets couldn’t get near the snap traps. Then my friend Jerome told me about his last crummy landlord and the efficiency of electric traps.

I ran back to the hardware store and this time I bought The Rat Zapper
The rat zapper killed the rat really fast They were expensive compared to snap traps but my sanity was slowly spilling away so it felt like money well spent.

This morning I woke up to a red light blinking on the Rat Zapper, and the best news was that Mr. G was home and it was his turn to deal with the rat.

I went to play tennis and came home to this in the trash bin.

[gross image ahead – you’ve been warned]  (more…)

This Was Actually Alexander’s Idea


And I’ve effectively thrown both my children under the bus.

I do hope there’s a therapist who waits under busses for children.

More Rats? Or Is It A Gottlieb Now?


Mr. G and I were were sitting with Alexander in the family room, which is open to the kitchen, but also has a sliding door (complete with dog door) to the back garden. My boys were playing with the PlayStation and I was trying to understand it. I came dangerously close to caring about it when all of a sudden my son and husband saw a rat run in through the dog door and make a sharp left into the kitchen.

Mr. G and Alexander leaped into action, my husband guarded the kitchen so the rat couldn’t leave (remember it’s a galley kitchen) and Alexander ran upstairs (because he’s smart). Naturally we were all barefoot, and anyone who’s seen a horror movie knows that rats will nibble your toes off. I went upstairs and got some boots on, and my husband yelled for the kids to bring him shoes.

The kids wouldn’t help. Stinkers.

I did what any self respecting blogger does. (more…)

There’s A Rat In The House


At about 9.00 last night, just as the kids were drifting off to sleep I heard my husband call me from downstairs.

“Jess, Jess I need you!”

As is my habit, I refused to go downstairs. I had (still have) a cold, I was tired and grumpy. It was a little unusual in that he continued to call for me. “Jess, I really do need you!”

The yelling roused the kids, this isn’t a house where we yell for one another. Finally I yelled down and asked what the ruckus was. My husband explained that a rat had run in through the dog door and was somewhere between the kitchen, dining and family room. I did what any Mommy Blogger worth her salt would do. I updated my twitter status:

A Rat Just Ran into the house

and then I realized that the rat needed to die.

get the gun

So, maybe I overreacted a smidge. My husband needed a second set of hands, and since ours is a galley style kitchen with only two entries, we’d kill the rat ourselves. Right?

Yeah, right.

I pulled on a pair of hot pink rain boots just in case the rat thought of biting my ankles. I joined my husband downstairs and the kids stood on the balcony looking down on us, delighting in their delayed bedtimes.

I gingerly stepped into the laundry room and retrieved a broom. My husband grabbed a hockey stick. We stood there, armed with our sticks we stifled a giggle. Then I failed.

I was absolutely unable to keep a straight face. My husband was opening kitchen cabinets and getting ready for a rat to run out. With each successive opening I got more giggly. It was too much for me.

I sat with my broom and kept an eye on the kitchen doors while my husband ran to the drug store for some rat traps. We set a few of them in strategic spots in the kitchen where the dog couldn’t get them and went upstairs to bed.

Once tucked into our bed I had a horrible realization. Hamsters fit into rat traps. I love my son, and I certainly don’t want to traumatize the boy, but this could solve many problems.

I’ll be getting up early each day, because if the hamster finds it’s way into the trap, well? It’ll have to be our secret.