IN THE BOYS' BED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As I wriggled in tonight to convince Thuglet that bed was a good idea my feet crunched around in something. Biscuits? What have they been up to now?
Not biscuits. Pellets. Lots.
How had I missed this earlier when I was cuddling Rock Godling to sleep on the other side of the bed? YUCK!!!!!
Another tantrum. Still shaking in a baboon-bottomy-pink-eyed way 2 hours later. Want to leave home. Nowhere else to go. Feel sick. Will have to clean our all their toy baskets that line the walls on the floor. Burn the mattress. Hated that bloody futon base thing anyway - THE most annoying bed to make of all and the mattress wanders about all over place every day so I have to totally remake the bloody bed every night anyway and it's up against a damp wall and and and and When Are The Bunk Beds Arriving? At least I've finally ordered them. But I don't want to live here anymore!!!!!!!
Stomach in nautical knots. Head still hurts. Never felt so cold. Hate everything. Especially fucking RODENTS!!!!!!!!!!!
I know they were here before us but......... DIE YOU STINKING PERPETUALLY PISSING RANCID LITTLE FUCKERS!!!!!!!! DIE DIE DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There is no consolation that the pellets were poisoned as they hadn't bloody eaten them. I suppose they must have eaten some and stored the rest - IN OUR BED!!!!!!!!!!!!
Had to scoop little Godling out and put him 'Mummy and Daddy's' bed. Back to Daddy's and a boy's bed again then. 'Mummy and Daddy's' bed lasted 2 days. A new record I suppose. Am now downstairs, made up the settees as I was still too fire-spitting to claim The Big Bed - but I'm still ranting and Thuglet's still Peppa Pigging. Maybe sleep would be a good idea. Big day tomorrow - cleaning Cleaning and CLEANING!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I feel your pain. I hope that fantastic rant was cathartic and gives you the energy to sort it all out today. I was miserable last year when the little bastards made a home in our box of treasured Christmas decorations - all our family favourites and ones my son had made when he was litte, all ruined.
ReplyDeleteThey will get rid of us before we get rid of them.
ReplyDeleteI want to live in an antiseptic modern sealed unit now. Enough 18th Century rustic filth.
Had plenty of mouse encounters before - they've feasted on many papier mache works of art - and I even picked one up one by the tail once thinking it was my candle snuffer. Broke the land speed record and the sound barrier that evening.
But this place is something else.
List of wildlife sightings and evidence tally so far: mice, shrews, voles, rats, bats, moles, rabbits, stoats, snakes....... and bugs and crawlies and slitheries of unfeasable proportions. We do have pretty birdies too. I know when you live somewhere like this you're gonna have vermin but when Alphie Male was plucking creatures off the kitchen counters - that was gut-twisting enough and I even said then how freaky it is lying on a futon-y low bed worrying if they'll get on the bed - but IN THE BED? This is the breaking point!
As you can tell - ranting still not finished........
all sympathies and consolations! when i made up aunty dee's bed in the spare room i found mouse droppings at the foot of her bed. i sort of kept that a secret from her because she does an annual one night babysitting.
ReplyDeletewe have found the problem to be that we can create a mouse-free house after a lot of hard work, but then 3 months later the word's passed around in the mouse 'hood that the mousecatchers at number 11 are pretty inept, so it's safe to stroll back in.
Yeah I know that one too. It amazes me how optimistic and well - dim Mr Alph is about it all. When we have that familiar smell of poisoned and drying out Mouse Death hanging in the air, and he's had a couple of catches in the traps he's convinced that that's it - we've won - and will not accept tales of scampering, rustling and scratching from anyone large or small until it has once again reached medieval proportions. But I shouldn't complain for all my fightin' talk I will never look in the carrier bag of death after a grim harvest. I even screamed when he brought down a trap with a Sylvanian white mouse in red spotted dress in it. I should be more supportive I suppose - never been keen on Sylvanian mop-tops.
ReplyDeleteI even considered for a tiny tiny tiny moment that I should relent and let The Boy have his Jack Russell he's been pestering for - or indeed a python! But the nano moment passed and I reflected on our cat-harbouring days - I'd never seen so many mice IN the damn house until we had the cats. Dead and alive. It was the headless rabbit in the bathroom that finished that experiment. Alph declared it was him or the cat (as we were just down to one by then anyway). Pretty as she was she never took the bins out. Or the carpet-kill. Bye Bye Pussycat.
BTW is your Aunty Dee free next week?
ReplyDelete