Mr. Skeeter's Holiday

We lost a rat the other day. Actually, it was an evening. Usually, Skeeter the boy rat pounds on the top of his cage until the screen opens and then he hops on over to visit the other rat in a cage. Who happens to be female. Trying to figure out how to get into her cage is enough to keep him thoroughly engaged until the early morning, when I get up and pass by the cages, realize there is a rat missing out of one of them, notice the free rat, and shoo him back into his cage.

Of course, the morning of the day I'm hosting a party, the rat isn't in his cage. He's not trying to chew his way into the girl rat's cage. There isn't a rat anywhere.

Now, here is the conundrum of friendship and honesty: do I 'fess up and tell my friends there is an errant, rabid rat traipsing around my house (guard your children!) or, do I "forget" the rat has escaped and keep the truth to myself. I did mention the escapee rat. Kind of like oh-the-food-is-in-the-kitchen-and-drinks-are-in-the-cooler-did-I-mention-we-have-a-rat-loose? kind of a way.

The next morning I woke up to find toilet paper strewn from our master bathroom to under the chaise loungechair next to bed. Either we had a poltergiest, or Skeeter had paid me a visit during the ngiht. Not really sure which one is more disturbing.

Later that day, the five children were dispatched upstairs with a large flashlight, strict instructions to find the rat and then locked into the rooms until the rat was found. Thankfully, they found Skeeter.