That Rat Bastard!

I’m a shitty mother. I’m on my second day of temporary single-motherhood. In all seriousness, I can’t fathom how single mothers function without losing their minds. I take great comfort in the fact that David will be home tomorrow night. In the meantime, I hope that lousy bastard is enjoying his peaceful weekend at a hotel sans children. Asshole.

Day One started out nicely enough. Gwen cried when she found out that her Daddy wasn’t coming home. I hugged her and provided vast amounts of comfort, but she continued bawling until I finally told her to cut the dramatics. A visual representation of my level of patience when it comes to whining little girls is this: o. Yes, that’s right. My patience could fit in that tiny little ‘o’ that I typed back there.

As the day wore on and I began to dread the complete lack of “me” time I’d enjoy over the next 72 hours, I decided to fight fire with fire. Off I went to the grocery store to stock up on crappy food that we wouldn’t normally eat. Okay, let me rephrase that. I bought a bunch of crap that under normal circumstances, I’d never let them eat but Daddy would because he’s the nice one. I bought the ingredients for cupcakes, I bought microwave popcorn to drizzle with Reese’s peanut butter chips and Nestle chocolate chips (you’re welcome for the shout out, corporate giants who peddle crappy food to my children). I also stocked up on pizza dough and all the fixings, then rented Despicable Me. Those kids rolled over on their Daddy and declared me the nice one right there in the grocery store. Suckers.

We baked cupcakes together and I only yelled once. I let them frost their own cupcakes then eat two. I let them make their own mangled pizzas but couldn’t refrain from adding broccoli to the toppings.  It was a good night. The kids went to bed a bit later than usual and I knocked back two glasses of wine before passing out from a mixture of exhaustion and booze. This being nice crap isn’t easy.

Day Two had a bit of a bumpy start. For a week, I’ve made David check the mouse traps that I set in the cabinet holding the dog food. For a week, the mice have successfully avoided death by Victor. Well, I think that one of those furry little bastards was waiting until David went away to sacrifice himself.

I’m not one of those women who shrieks and jumps on a chair at the sight of a mouse. I actually think they’re kind of cute. We happen to have field mice with those big, black teardrop shaped cartoon eyes, long whiskers, a furry white under belly. After the rats in Boston, these little critters look like a Beatrix Potter illustration come to life. However, I don’t want them in my food. Dead mice freak me out and there he was, laying in the cabinet with a smooshed head, rigor mortis and that long tail. I shrieked and slammed the cabinet shut. Gwen and Kate each mimicked my performance while Joe barely registered a reaction.

Stella was the only family member willing to help out. Initially, my plan included her picking the mouse up in her mouth and then I’d send her outside to “dispose” of it. Good plan, right? Wrong. She happily went into the cabinet and starting gnawing on the mouse right there. I seriously could have shut the cabinet and let her go to town and I don’t think she would have moved until it was gone. I wasn’t interested in hearing tiny bones cracking or Stella’s tongue lapping up gooey mouse parts. So, I made her come out of the cabinet and began to rethink my mouse removal methods. Stella began digging the cabinet to get back in, which prompted me to act.

Much to the delight of my children I found a paper bag and while emitting an insane sounding, “OMIGOD, OMIGOD, OMIGOD” over and over again, I picked up the trap and sealed that stiffened little creature into his tomb. The kids all giggled when I ran to the garage to pitch the corpse of our tiny thieving friend. I performed a shrieking heebie-jeebie dance in honor of the sacrificial rodent. He’s entombed in a Baby Gap bag, still wearing his trap. He had a good life and spent his final days noshing on expensive dog food. God Bless Mouse.

I don’t care how cute they are, if his buddies come looking for him tonight, they’d better watch it! Another Victor is baited and ready to take out the next rat bastard who tries to filch the dog kibble.”

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  1. melody-mae says:

    you my friend are a crack up! I totally get this. we live on a farm so I have mice and have even HAD rats…you should see me when there is a mouse in a trap…oh ya…heebie jeebie dance indeed!

  2. That's just too funny…

    that and better you than me!

  3. Rancher Mom says:

    The best way to get through temporary single motherhood: Booze, chocolate, Xanax, Valium, etc. Take your pick. Or you can toss them all into a blender and make a Mommy-Smoothie.

  4. Yeah…when my husband's on a trip, I'm oh so much more relaxed about what we do, eat, and watch. Heh. But as soon as he walks in that door, all previous favors are forgotten and I'm again the lady who makes her Coco Wheats.

  5. Hahahahaha you paint such a picture through your words!!

  6. Jennifer Kay says:

    Dude if Jon left me for a weekend with the kids and a mouse decided to come in and die? I would just put a bowl over him and then put an air freshener on top of it until he came home.

    Damn husbands getting free time.

  7. Slidecutter says:

    Like I suggested on FB…still would have used my hubby's big shop vac, sucked that creature up, trap and all. Should make perfect sense to the man who used my blow dryer on his bad self after a shower because all the bath towels were in the laundry.

    I do like Rancher Mom's suggestion though…

  8. So funny. Have you read my posts about the mice? I too am not a shrieker but something about mice does it to me every time. And we have those "cute" field mice too. The last one was like a perfect specimen of colors.

    My father was a firefighter and worked 2 days, 2 nights and then 4 days off. That meant my mother had to be a single mother for 2 nights every week. We loved it because dad laid down the law more than mom and if we wanted to have friends over, it had to be a night he was working. I think my mother secretly liked the 2 nights with the bed to herself for 25 years. I know I would!

  9. Day three. Insanity is setting in. Rancher Mom's suggestions are looking good.

  10. Hahaha, you are so funny. I totally got a visual at "OMIGOD, OMIGOD, OMIGOD!"

  11. cakeologist says:

    Thanks for the laugh. I could not deal with a dead mouse…I would have made my 8 year old daughter dispose of it. I made her remove a dead guinea pig when she was 5 so I am sure she could handle a little mouse.

  12. Oh, yuck! I'm a little grossed out by dead mice, too! I once caught 14 in an apartment I rented during college!

  13. zach&katies crazymom says:

    sounds like you handled it all very well! no drama, no break downs,no giving in to the little rulers of the castle?!?!?!
    believe me, as a single mother for the past 6 yrs, it is not easy. but there is something to be said for not having a man in the house all the time. you are the bitch mom and the nicest mom ever all rolled into one. and in the end they love you best anyway…you are mommy!!!!!!!!!

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