If it smells like a rat...

I feel like I have told this story 3 TRILLION times. But the blog is for posterity right? And it really is WORTH repeating! So if you have heard it already you can just keep hanging out on Facebook or get back to Pinterest I guess! :)


Last Wednesday night Wesson and I were outside in the front yard. We have an island in our yard with trees, bushes and flowers. We have planted everything but the bushes so they are quite large. Wesson was busy playing "garbage trucks" (he is seriously obsessed with garbage trucks...but i guess that is better than like Winnie the Pooh right?) I decided I would weed the island, I was just going about my own business, I lifted the leaves of the bush to weed underneath it and out of the corner of my eye something kinda fell out of the bush. I look over and see...

As you can imagine I  SCREAM. And not like a quiet gentle scream, like BLOODY MURDER. Like I was being stabbed! And no one came running to rescue me?? COME ON NEIGHBORS!! I leap over the bush. I grab Wesson. We fall to the ground. I am screaming. He is crying. This was traumatic for everyone. I call Ryan. It goes something like this:


Ryan: Hi baby
Jess: A RAT A RAT A RAT!!!!!!!!
Ryan: What?
Jess: AT OUR HOUSE! A RAT!!!!
Ryan: I can't understand you
Jess: A WHITE RAT WITH RED EYES STARRING AT ME!!! I AM SELLING THE HOUSE!!!!
Ryan: That is just someones pet, put up a sign that you found it! 
Jess: I THINK IT IS DEAD, IT WAS LOOKING AT ME!!!!
Ryan: Then put it in the trash can...
Jess: YEAH, I AM GOING TO TOUCH IT. GOOD BYE!


So I proceed to call EVERY man I know. Jeff, my next-of-kin. My father in law. My neighbor. My friends. With no luck. FINALLY...my AMAZING neighbor Carrie comes home. She tells me, get me some paper towels and I'll throw it away. (AH-MAZING right??) She throws it in our garbage. I love her. Ryan comes home that night and CAN YOU BELIEVE has the nerve to get upset because we just threw it in the trash and then it will decompose and stink up the trash can, we need to put it in a bag or something...blah blah blah. I was NEVER going to look at that rat again so I told him he was on his own. Our week got really busy and he didn't think of it again. I on the other hand told EVERYONE I saw from that day on about my encounter with Satan's pet rat! On Saturday morning we were both home and I asked Ryan if he had put it in a bag, he said he hadn't and he would go do that now while I was inside getting Wesson ready for the day. Moments later Ryan comes in laughing this evil laugh...(you know the one...) he says, "I want to start by saying I love you, but you are a RETARD"...






THAT RAT IS FAKE.




And it was.

oops. everyone gets one good rubber rat story right?