Ok, so our last installment left our heroine bending down to pick up what she thought was a brown sock on the floor after just saying goodbye to the pest control guy who told her she had roof rats...can you see what's coming?
Well, I was actually on the phone with the office manager of the pest company at the time, arranging for the crew to come out and fix my roof. As I'm telling her my schedule, I reach down casually to scoop up this sock and as my fingers graze it...the flippin' thing MOVED. FAST.
What happened next was a blur involving me standing on the breakfast table like the old cartoons of Tom and Jerry and screaming toward the receiver (which I had flung across the kitchen) for her to send someone to kill the &(mailto:*@*&%&^# rat in my house.
Don't ask me how, but I managed to hop my way around the kitchen without touching the floor - I was like a lifesize version of frogger bolting from island to bar to keys to purse to OUTSIDE!!! I found myself running down the street panting and shaking like a leaf.
Thankfully, the kids were at a friend's house or I would have scarred them with my antics much more than the creature inside could have. I waited in my car (surely rats would have trouble opening the door, what with their little claws getting in the way and all) for the pest man to arrive back at my house. TWO FREAKIN HOURS LATER he pulls into the driveway and strolls into my house to save the day.
He walks in to the kitchen after hearing my breathless account of the drama armed with his trusty rat trapping tools and he comes out with a huge smile on his face. I didn't even want to ask, but I had to. "What?"
"um..ma'am, that's not a rat. It's a baby flying squirrel." He was carrying a box and he walked to the side of my house to set it down. Out hopped the vermin I was so terrified of. It could have fit in the palm of my hand and it was so young that it's eyes weren't even opened. It cheeped a cute little sound which I recognized from that morning.
I felt so conflicted. I was elated that my fingers did not touch a rat, but I was also extremely embarrassed by my lack of bravado and my two hours wasted while I huddled in the car. I turned hopefully to my pest man and said, "So, we don't have rats, we have squirrels?" (somehow the fluffiness of their tails makes them so much easier to stomach) and he replied, "Oh, no ma'am...you have both."
You would think, friends, that this ends my adventure with the furry little woodland creatures, but you would be wrong. For my story is just beginning. Tune in tomorrow to see how the "tail" unfolds...