Glory, Hallelujah! Welcome to Sunday morning at my house

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There was nothing out of the ordinary about this Sunday morning. It began in the usual way, with a whimpering labrador retriever waking me up 45 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. Per the usual, I rolled out of bed, secured all doors that said labrador has no business entering, and released him from his crate. He trotted while I dragged my feet to the back door. He bounded down the stairs while I slowly made my way down to the patio, soaking in the morning twilight. My gaze slowly moved down from the horizon to my gorgeous yellow lab who was gently nudging a dead rat with his nose….A DEAD RAT. The gentle nose-nudging quickly escalated into a little nip to check that the creature is in fact dead, and at that point my brain quickly shed the warm wrappings of sleep and began to quickly calculate how long I had to act and in what way I would have to act BEFORE THIS GOT REALLY GROSS!!!! I believe I started repeatedly screaming “NO!!” at the dog while simultaneously running inside and grabbing no small number of Walmart sacks. With infinite layers of plastic between me and the expired rodent, I quickly scooped up the juvenile rat, tied up the bag, and flung it in a graceful arc over the fence. When it landed on the other side of the fence with a thud, I heaved a little.

Due to the morning’s exertions, I desperately needed some alone time and coffee, and I left Stax outside to eat his breakfast. He let me know that his feelings were hurt that I was foregoing our morning snuggle time, but it was best for everyone’s safety. I enjoyed my quiet time of coffee, reading, and journaling before it was time to wake May Lee up. Once I was able to roust her from the bed and into the shower, we made our way back to my bathroom so I could blow dry her hair. We were only about 2 minutes into the process when I saw something completely un-nerving. I tried to assure myself that it was simply a speck of dirt that didn’t get rinsed out in the shower, but my attempt to remove the speck-o-dirt confirmed that my fear that this was in fact A LOUSE! On the morning of rat removal, my child’s head is also playing host to LICE! Glory, hallelujah! Welcome to Sunday morning at my house!

I finished checking May Lee’s head and drying her hair before I sent her off to get dressed. I commenced to manically pacing up and down the hallway, waiting for some divine revelation as to what plan of action migh be called for at this very stressful moment in time. Flat irons, I heard one time that flat-ironing hair kills the eggs. I have a flat iron. We can do that. Heavens, that lice shampoo reeks and is so toxic…surely there is an essential oil for this. Doesn’t tea tree oil kill everything?! My manic pacing and thinking was interrupted at this point by May Lee’s shrill cry. She summoned me to her room and showed me a picture that she made at school of a honeycomb with real honeycomb cereal. The cereal is now housing dozens of black ants, and it appears that they have invited their relatives to join them in their new honeycomb home. I scoop up the picture and immediately dispose of it. My child falls to her knees with heavy tears rolling down her face. We take a moment to deeply mourn the loss of what she now believed to be her favorite piece of art that she had ever created. After we composed ourselves somewhat, we walked into the living room to plan our next step.

Rats. Lice. Ants. A fire ignited in my belly and rose into my throat. I raised my arm and shook my fist in no particular direction. I pointed my finger all around the room and declared “That’s it. You’re all in trouble. We’re going to Walmart, and we get back, YOU’RE ALL DEAD! YOU WILL NOT TAKE OVER MY HOUSE!!! “. I sensed that May Lee was by my side, and I saw that she was looking up at me in wide-eyed wonder. I wasn’t sure if it was in admiration at her mother’s sudden transformation into William Wallace or if it was fear of her mother’s clearly fragile mental state. She then began to wag her own little finger and proclaimed, “That’s right! We’re going to get you!” I looked down at her and told her to get her shoes on, because we were going into battle. She quickly replied “I’ll get our swords, Mommy!”, and off she ran to collect shoes and swords. That’s my girl.

We are now fully armed with all manner of sprays, essential oils, and toxic chemical agents. We have flat-ironed hair, saturated it with a lice-killing formula, and combed it with the lice comb. All of our belongings are being washed at the highest temperatures and with the harshest chemicals that they can stand. The ants are next, my friends. THE ANTS ARE NEXT, and it’s not going to be pretty. It is on like donkey kong.

PRAY FOR US #ratsliceants

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