My Dad left yesterday after almost three weeks with us. It was tremendous having him here while I've been trying to figure out life in St. Thomas.
Someone with whom to discuss options. Someone to entertain Julian while I waited three hours in line to get my phone hooked up. Someone who gave me a greater sense of security.
Dad enthusiastically took on the role of chef, pool and beach activity director, house organizer, navigator, and advisor. Dad was also responsible for happy hour - which may explain why Julian has been asking for beers.
I am pretty certain Dad enjoyed the adventure and hopefully feels more assured having seen where we live.
However, now that I'm a mother - I'm beginning to realize you never stop being a parent. And you never stop needing your parents.
Dad was barbecuing some lamb for dinner a few nights ago. A great dinner. Lamb, roasted potatoes, salad. A bottle of Ravenswood zinfandel for a mere $10. When he returned to the cooled grill to ensure the gas was off - a large rat jumped out from the grill testing Dad's heart strength. And my worst phobia. For some people it's spiders, for others it's snakes. For me it's rats. I don't like them in Ratatouille, the Nutcracker Suite or Charlotte's Web.
Naturally, as soon as I heard a full report of the flying rat (the size of a cat in my mind), I immediately swung into lock-down mode. Full outdoor lights. Doors shut. Kitchen santization.
Of course, the longer I obsessed about rats on the property, the more I had convinced myself they had moved into the house and were trying on my shoes. By the time I went to bed, I could hear one (or an entire family) in my box spring. The longer I tried to rationalize why there wasn't a rat in the house, the louder the noises were. So - I wandered down the hall to my Dad's room where he was fast asleep. Very fast asleep.
"Daaaaad," I said quietly.
No response.
"Dad!" I said a little more abruptly.
Snoring.
Despite better judgement, I woke poor Dad and dragged him to my room where we - (actually just Dad) - looked under the bed with a flashlight.
Nothing.
I still wasn't convinced. And without really having to ask - Dad said "well - we can take the bed apart."
I'll have to remind myself of this when Julian next wakes up with a bad dream.
But all is well - because I have a fancy new alarm system in the house and as soon as those rats read the signs - they won't go anywhere near the house - or my shoes.
2 comments:
Love your blog CW. Eric and I check it every day. We always really enjoy your stories - they brighten up our day. In amongst 5 cm of snow today it is a delight to read your stories of the warmth and rats!! I'm sure the rats have been scared away for good. Those ADT signs will do it every time. Note: go to the SPCA and get a kitty - or a Jack Russell. They are bred to hunt rats..just something to consider.
Lots of love in the rain.
So glad to finally get a chance to read your memoirs Char.
Rats?! I have just the antedote - a beagle named Tucker - just let me know you're ready and I can have him on the first flight out!
Sounds like you are having a fabulous time - minus the rodent - and that both of you are settling in well. When you are feeling a little hot under the collar just remember that I have dug us out of 18 inches of snow this week and more falls daily. The sun finally made an appearance today but it is not a good sign when the plough can't make it up your street for two days running! How I love living on a mountainside:)Enjoy the sun, surf and sand - I'll be looking for cheap flights out for the girls and I to visit!
The girls, who I am sure will be reading by next week, will be following your blog, so please keep writing. There is a book or two in you yet!
Take care my friend - we miss you lots and will send photos this weekend.
Post a Comment