The Rat

 

Ah, the joys of moving.  I’m in the middle of moving to a new home, which means a whole lot of cleaning, throwing out, organizing, donating, uncluttering, and packing.

I’ve tried to organize the process and do a little bit in a certain area each day, and so far I’m about 5 days behind schedule.

I have empty boxes piled in the living room, right next to packed boxes piled in the living room, while still trying to maintain the rest of the house and quite frankly, I feel like I’m living in a rat hole.

I’m not sure why story books and cartoons portray mice as such cute critters.

If you ask me, there is nothing cute about a mouse.

They’re dirty, they’re nasty, they scurry about leaving those little mouse turds behind.  And I just got the shivers, no lying.  In the cartoons, they always have a cute little face and live in a  tidy little mouse-hole with a rocking chair and an afghan.  Maybe a little table and a few chairs formed from old thread spools they’ve collected.  Mama mouse wears an apron and daddy mouse usually dons a vest with a pocket watch with a pair of spectacles resting on his nose.

But that’s Hollywood or Walt Disney and certainly not an accurate portrayal of the rodent which I hate.

Living in the country, mice are pretty inevitable.  I mean, really I’m living on their turf out here in a big open field.

Not too long ago, I blogged about my mouse troubles here.  And how I went about getting two little kittens from my mom’s to help ward off the mice.

Well, I think they are doing their job.

Or something is.

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This is the gross of the grossest, I know.  But this rat was lying dead in the drive the other day.   J-Dub doesn’t have a gigantic foot by any means, but nonetheless that is one big dude.

Funny, I don’t see his little pocket watch or spectacles.  This isn’t one of Cinderella’s little helpers is it?  More like Templeton from Charlotte’s Web, who is the accurate depiction of a true rat. A  nasty, fat, filthy varmint.  A dead one, at that.

So kudos to the cats.

Or the dogs.

Or the sudden acute coronary thrombosis that took his life.

 

The To Do List

I try to start my day off with a list of to-do’s.   Not because I want to, I actually despise lists, but because without one, I’m pretty dad gum worthless.  We all know that one person who doesn’t have a lazy bone in their body right?  Well, that’s not me.  My body is chock full of lazy bones.  206 to be exact.  I can whittle away the hours doing nothing and be perfectly content.  It shows too.  My laundry and refrigerator are proof.

Lists are my husband’s thing.  He swears by them.  Each day, he makes a list for his day and is fully self-driven enough to accomplish more than he has written down.

I’m fully self driven enough to make a list and then sit down.

I try.

I usually fail.

But I try.

Here’s my list from about 5 days ago.

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Yes, you read that right, it says “Get Dressed”.  I always do, but if I write it down, at least I can scratch one thing off.  It makes me feel as if I’ve accomplished something.   Trivial maybe, but something.

But as you can see, nothing is checked off this list.  And I did some of these things, I really did.  But I never came back to check the list to see what I did and didn’t do.  I’m still waiting to blog the rat pic, it’s coming, be aware.  And I’m still waiting to exercise.  It’s probably not coming, be aware.

As I was writing my list, my little Emma Kate wanted to write her own list too.  So she took the pen and I guided her little hand as she jotted down some of her to-do’s as well.  Now I realize to the untrained eye, it may appear to be a bit of scribble, but it’s not.  Don’t feel bad if you can’t read it.  It’s kind of like speaking pig-latin.  Either you got it, or you don’t.  I got it.  Call it mother intuition or deciphering phonetic writing of elementary children for too long or just a weird sixth sense, but that list is perfectly legible to me.

EK’s To Do List

1) Pull out all the Tupperware lids from kitchen drawer

2) Remove the dish towels and burp clothes and scatter them among the kitchen floor from kitchen drawer #2

3)  Open the cabinet drawers in the dining room and eat the Scentsy bars of wax

4)  Be sure and get the toilet brush in my mouth at least one time

5) Fake mom out where she thinks I’m actually going to nap for more than 15 minutes

6) Pull books off the bookcase

7) Take off my socks

8) Eat crumbs from my high chair seat that have been there excessively too long

9) Throw my food in the floor

10) Smear snot all over my face

11)  Prevent mom from completing her to-do list so she has someone else to blame besides her 206 lazy bones

And like her daddy, she gets it all done and then some!!