Just one rat, actually. And right now it's over the Pacific Ocean, tucked inside my husband's luggage. It's sort of a love note and good luck charm that we try to send with each other for out of town trips. I always endeavor to get it in his luggage without him knowing which usually means I spend the morning acting like a total weirdo and suggesting that he perform unnecessary tasks in remote parts of the house.
I originally bought the rat nine years ago to get hubby's goat. We were living in this crazy small apartment in Chicago. And I mean Chicago Chicago, not "I grew up in such-and-such a suburb Chicago". One night he saw a mouse, which ran under the refrigerator, and he spent the next fifteen minutes banging the hell out of the bottom of the fridge with a broom. The mouse, of course, was long gone. I bought the plastic rat and left it in the kitchen to get him going again and it totally worked and I love telling that story so much.
The prospect of a week and a half of single parenthood has me a little on edge. Maybe I'll get more sewing time instead of clutching my husband's arm through Dexter episodes. Or maybe I'll sit down in front of the TV anyway and gorge myself on Project Runway. I'm hoping that I figure out the shower conundrum and the dinner dilemma and keep the whining to a minimum!