I was summoned to the dining room by a scream.
‘HOLLY! Come here, help me!’
I rush in expecting to find my husband in some deeply perilous situation requiring some dramatic rescue. I was wrong.
He was standing there, apparently in one piece and not bleeding profusely, pointing at the floor.
‘Get rid of it!’
There is a dead rat on the floor. I don’t know where it came from or rather which cat brought it in but there it was. A dead wild rat.
Well what am I supposed to do with it? We don’t have a dustbin and it is not staying in the house!
Well I scoop it up, dump it in a bag and run out to a bin near the house whilst my super manly husband flaps his hands and squeals.
I should have waved it in his face….that would have been funny.