The rats are back. I don’t know if they are in the house, but they are in the garage. How do I know this? A few weeks ago I put the camera in the garage for shits and giggles and ha ha ha, the laugh’s on me.

Now, short of jumping out of my windows if hubby would bite the bullet and buy the new window wands, I just sit in my room with a comatose glaze over my eyes. There is nothing I can do.

You know who could fix this? Fucking hubby.

Now, to be fair, he has had the garage swept out and put back together with the same shit leaning against the walls in case he needs to build a house or cut some tile… but I believe the rat is nesting behind the bags of powder cement or boxes of floor tiles.

No matter how many times I have said, get rid of your shit, the shit just keeps on coming.

For now, I have put the trash cans outside the garage so that perhaps they’d get the hint- only to find the that our outdoor tenants, Mr. and Mrs. Rocky Raccoon, ate through the can causing trash to precipitate all over my driveway.

Regardless, the rat still resides inside my garage and I am hoarding bags of trash inside my laundry room until I can trek to the garden to place them there.

So I snapped- I told hubby I want a divorce and I am out. He could keep the house, the kids, the cars- just get me the hell out.

Needless to say, he said he’ll have his shit out of the garage by Friday.

About Lady in Red

mom of 3
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