Midnight Madness: The Night Ratty Declared War

It was unusually warm last night, so I thought I’d let some fresh air flow through the house. Since none of the windows in this lovely place actually open, doors are our only option. I opened both the front door and the back sliding door (no screen—mistake number one) to get some airflow moving.

In hindsight, this was not my brightest idea—especially considering the neighbors were recently evicted and, ever since then, the neighborhood seems to be infested with rats. But at the time? I didn’t think twice.

After showering, I locked everything up and headed to bed around midnight. I sat on the edge of the bed to wind down and—out of nowhere—

A RAT.

Yes. An actual rat ran right past me and straight up the stairs into the toddler's room.

I sprinted after it as #5child squealed in terror. I grabbed the first thing I could use as a weapon and attempted to smash it. I even sicced our Blue Heeler on it… only to discover the rat wasn’t afraid in the slightest. The thing actually tried to bite the stick.

Meanwhile, dear Mr. TV was in the living room, perfectly calm, watching a Big Foot documentary like nothing at all was happening.

My screaming woke up every child in the house, so at least I had an audience. #3child and #2child wisely chose to observe the chaos from their beds. #4child, however, surprised me by being incredibly brave.

Ratty darted back into the boys’ room and headed for the back door—victory was near! Except the door was locked. #1child hesitated, worried another rat might come in. I disagreed. Strongly. Let’s just get this one out first.

#1child briefly suggested an… inventive weapon involving a mop handle and a steak knife. That plan was shut down immediately, though I’ll admit—resourceful kid.

Then it happened.

Ratty ran directly across my bare foot.

I jumped onto the toddler bed in full panic mode while the toddler calmly watched everything unfold like it was a well-produced nature documentary.

After pulling myself together, I chased the rat again toward the door. And just to keep things exciting, it ran across my foot again—then tried to crawl up my leg.

That’s when it became personal.
This was no longer a chase.
This was WAR.

Somewhere during the madness, #1child

announced he thought the rat was cute and didn’t deserve to die. Yes—the rat apparently had a fan club.

I brought the Blue Heeler back into action, and this time he meant business. He cornered Ratty, grabbed hold, and we heard a squeal before the rat escaped again—this time straight into the pantry.

After pulling out the toy box it hid behind, Ratty made a final dash through the boys’ room and out the door. Victory at last.

The dog searched for that rat for another hour, convinced it was still lurking somewhere.

Lesson learned:

DO NOT leave outside doors open after dark. Ever. Under any circumstances