You know this won't end well

This morning I was asleep in the Stu's room. Fast asleep. That lovely heavy sleep where you think you could sleep for days.

Until something woke me up. I tried to figure out which one of my kids was making an annoying scratchy kind of noise - and why on earth were they up so early?

They weren't. It was just me and the scratchy sound, which turned out to be coming from the ceiling. I must have been quite a sight, stumbling around the room, eyes barely open trying to figure out where it was coming from. Hmmmm. This must explain why the Stu woke up at 4:30 this morning and stumbled into our bed.

I am a real wimp in this department. When I was in University I lived in an apartment close to Lakeshore Road and we had itty bitty field mice between the walls. At least the landlady told me they were itty bitty field mice. I was quite convinced that the one who liked to dig by my headboard was an oversized rat who would, at any moment, claw his way through the drywall and maul me in my sleep. Apparently the cat in the apartment was enough to keep them away.

Marc was up, showered, and getting ready to go to the airport. He was dragged into the Stu's room and agreed that yes, there was something there.

I crawled back into my bed with the sleeping Stu and tried to stop imagining colonies of feral varmint living in my ceiling. Films depicting small animals in human-like social settings be damned. I am having visions of the princess in Despereaux. Not good.

Marc agreed that I could do what was necessary while he is away (visions of the rodents producing hundreds of offspring before Wednesday night - we will be run out of the house...) Of course the husband of Nat the Wonderful is out of town too - he is also wonderful, would solve this for me no problem, and has only once ever been out of town on business before. Why now???

I called my mother as soon as the kids were on the bus (which is actually a very common thing). They have had this problem before. She gave me detailed instructions on how to solve it myself (apparently peanut butter is very effective in traps? Ewww.)

So now I have to drag my unshowered (and very dirty haired) self to Canadian Tire, buy traps and try to set them before Julia gets home at 11 am.

It is now 8:41 and have I gone?

Nope, I am blogging. Because procrastination is a wonderful thing.

(I am a wimp and I am fine with that. I know it. Really. Now can you please come set these traps for me?)