Today was the day my husband got busy. Now don't go there, that's not what I meant at all. Today was the day he finally got up off his rumpkus to tackle the rat that has decided to move into our house, and take up occupancy somewhere between the laundry room and upstairs. I heard him chewing on something in the walls yesterday *shudder* that was the last straw.
Have you seen the movie Ratatouille? Remember this guy?
Yeah, that guy is me. Only with less lip hair and slightly less bulgy eyes.
The other major difference is that this rat isn't making soup, he's making poop. And lots of it, judging by the way my shop vac is groaning after cleaning up all the places he's taken up temporary residence and left evidence. (I'm seriously not trying to do the pathetic poetic... on purpose.)
Mr Nice Guy also decided to go take a look at our freezer. It's stored in the laundry room, and just recently I noticed that the popsicles were a bit mushy. Our freezer was gasping for air. JUST what a family of six needs, a dying freezer full of food! He spent most of his day unpacking the drippy freezer, which included several meat items that needed cooked TODAY. At one point, he took me to the kitchen sink and showed me several items he had placed there, including the chicken we were going to have for dinner, the somewhat frozen tater tots (I didn't even remember we had any!) that must be used promptly as a side dish, and the semi-frozen veggies that should make a good accompaniment.
I kept my sense humor. This was one of a handful of times my husband had dinner planned before lunchtime after all! I was thrilled! I went about my busy day and came home. He had found the cause of our freezer problems... the cord was chewed through. *shudder again* He had emptied the entire freezer and moved it outside to give it a thorough cleaning, and had already replaced the chewed up cord with a shiny new one.
The kids didn't groan about dinner, they were just glad Dad was making something. Mom had obviously lost her will to live after vacuuming up the entire laundry room and all the... oh... *shudder* I can't even begin to describe it. The rat riddance devices were in place and life was good.
The kids brought me a plate, complete with dipping sauces, and I gleefully ate my dinner. Then, just to be a silly pain in the rear to my dear husband, I asked, "So Honey, where's dessert?!"
Clearly, I have met my match in the "silly-pain-in-the-rear" department when my 12 year old quickly piped up..."There's ice cream in the sink!"