The rat man came today (wouldn't you just love to be known as "the rat man"?) and he tells me that our problems are over.
There’s Good News, and There’s Bad News
Let me tell ya… anyone who can swagger and spit and crawl around my attic in tight jeans and cowboy boots like that and not freak completely the heck out over the whole creepy, dark, rodentness of it all… well his word is the God's honest as far as I'm concerned. If he says it's over, It's over.
He's like the rat whisperer.
Praise be to the Rat Man!!!
I told you'd I'd be counting my blessings, storing up happy things… and there it is, my evidence of joy for today…
pure, unadulterated, denim-wrapped Rat Man joy.
The bad news?
The rats apparently caught wind of Rat Man's Stetson cologne and ran for cover in the hills of my cyber world. They've chewed a hole straight through my comments section it seems.
Sometimes comments come in and I get no notification of their presence. Sometimes the same comment shows up multiple times, and now, folks are writing in to say that they can't comment at all. So sorry about that. The powers that be tell me that they are working on it.
If it ain't one damn thing it's another, right?
Yes, I'm swearing.
And I'm hitting the Egg Nog like it's 1999 too.
Okay, not really. Getting soused while homeschooling is probably pretty far up there on CPS's naughty list. Don't you think?
But I'm thinking about it. And they can't haul you off just for thinking about it, right?