Well, I guess, that's what we wanted, right?
Saturday night Steve got home late from work, around 10pm.
He said Mr. was freaking out and knew something was downstairs. Steve had set about 3 traps down there.
I am so grossed out typing this.
Anyway.
He goes down the basement steps and sees a rat in the trap.
It's alive.
Of course it is.
It's caught by a leg.
So, Steve got a shovel. This is gruesome, folks. Look away now if you don't want to see what you know what happens next.
So he had to put it out of its misery as humanely and quickly as possible.
And out he goes.
BUT HERE'S THE THING, GUYS. (DRY-HEAVING...)
At 2am (Steve's working on an old Mustang in the garage) he comes and wakes me to tell me that we got another one.
ohmigod. UGHHH. GROSSSSS.
I did not get a photo of Steve disposing of this one, because he was only wearing boxers. LOL.
But, it appeared to be TWO teenager-ish RATS.
TWO FUCKING RATS.
IN A SPAN OF 4 HOURS.
We set the traps again and let's see what happens. That's like 5, you guys, in like the last month. FIVE.
I'm ready to move.
Or burn the house down.
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