Marriage and Pests

There are a lot of reasons I'm married.

My husband is a great guy. He is smart and fun and generally we have a good time together. We like a lot, though not all, of the same things, we have beautiful children, and we travel well together.

But truth be told, I could have all those things without being married. But marriage takes you to the next level. The level where he takes out the trash (an unpleasant task), manages the car maintenance, and does the heavy lifting. He will always carry the suitcases out to the car (and back inside when we get home); if we're traveling without the kids, he will carry the suitcases. He will eat my sandwich for me, or trade, if it turns out in a way I did not anticipate. He will let me have the last can of coke or glass of wine.

Yet, as touching as those little gestures are, we have not yet reached the realm of true love: Pests.

Vermin. Rodents. Creepy things that enter my house without invitation.

On Owen Street, we had a little issue with bats. Now, I am not against bats in theory. In their natural habitat (which basically means anywhere that is NOT inside my house). Owen Street was our third old house in an old neighborhood. Meaning, I can't believe it took us that long to have a bat issue. On both Cooper Street and Ninth Street, we heard the bat tales from neighbors and figured we were next; never happened. On Owen Street, we made up for it.

We finally figured out that a screen on the third floor did not fit tight - it takes only a tiny opening for them to get in. Once we quit opening that window, bat problem solved. But we had several tense bat evenings. I am so relieved, so thankful that the bats only chose to make an appearance when Gary was home - I honestly do not know how I would have handled it alone. Maybe Alison would have helped me - she was very calm when she came down one night to tell us there was a bat in her room. The night I heard one flitting above my head, I was frozen beneath the covers while Gary dealt with the intruder.

A few weeks ago, Gary made a solemn announcement: He had found what he thought were droppings in the basement, next to a bag of potatoes that had been nibbled on. We had mice.

Once again, I know these things are a fact of life - I know neighbors who have had mice; I know a neighbor who had a rat in her toilet (shiver). A couple people have had mice in their kitchen cabinets. I'm relieved that my mice were only in the basement. And I'm consoling myself thinking that they probably got in when the back of the house was open when work was being done.

In any event, the mice are past tense. Gary bought the traps, baited the traps, set the traps, checked the traps, and emptied the traps. He caught, and disposed of, four mice. It's been about two weeks, and he's seen not hide nor hair of any more little creatures. And I didn't have to do a thing.

What a great husband. It brings me great peace of mind to know that my husband will always take care of me, will always eradicate our home of unwelcome guests.

And that rat? I would recommend keeping my toilet lids down when not in use.