uninvited visitor

This weekend as Karl and I were starting our Saturday by lounging around in our pajamas and eating cereal, I noticed what looked like stuffing from the couch on the floor. We started pulling cushions off, and realized with horror that there was a small hole apparently gnawed into the bottom of the seat... and a corresponding little hole in the corner by the patio door. Yikes. We called the apartment management folks, who promised someone would come out "by Monday at the latest."

Rodents give me the creeps in a special, particular way: when I was ten and we were living in Germany next to some farmland, a large rat managed to chew its way through one of the window sills and take up residence in our kitchen and dining room. My mom, wanting to impress upon her young children the dangers such rodents could pose, assigned us to research and write a report on rats, particularly the diseases they carry and their threat to humans, as part of our homeschooling. Do you have any idea how many horrible-sounding diseases you can catch from a rat? I don't think I slept well for a week - even after I made my sister share the top bunk of the bunk bed with me. (There was no WAY I was sleeping on the bottom, that close to the floor - rats can climb!)

I'm hoping our particular situation will be resolved soon, but in the meantime neither Karl nor I will sit on the couch until I can clean the cushions. Not even seeing "Ratatouille" can convince me that rodents are our friends.

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