“I smell a dead rat in the wall, help!!” I sent my text to my husband at work, desperate. It took a little longer than usual for him to respond to me, but soon his text came back.
“Be home at 6.”
I wasn’t sure I could wait all day long for him to come home at the normal time. My son’s Boy Scout troop was scheduled to come over to our house that night at 6:30 for their troop meeting, and there was a horrible stench in the front room.
“How do you know it’s a dead rat?” My husband texted.
My fingers flew over the tiny keyboard. “Saw rat poop by baseboard on Monday. Set out poison. Pretty sure it’s a dead rat.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned.
“Didn’t want to bother you.” I responded, cringing. This whole week was a busy week for him at work, and I’d wanted to take care of the rat problem myself without imposing any extra worry or work on him. He’d do the same for me any day, so I thought I’d return the favor. I knew the irony was that I was imposing on him on the busiest day of the week, but a dead rat smell was horrific, and I didn’t want to cancel on my son’s Scout troop.
“Smell of dead rat in wall is awful!” I sent, hoping he’d hear the desperation in my text. It really was awful. I had thought laying out rat poison at night, after the kids went to bed, would be safest. I figured the rat would come out as usual, eat the poison, and disappear somewhere to die quietly. I woke up before anyone else the next morning and had it all cleaned up before the kids got up. I had thought it was the perfect solution. Apparently, I had been wrong.
My cell rang. It was my husband. Texting wasn’t enough, apparently.
“Hon, even if I came home right now, I probably wouldn’t be able to get the dead rat out of the wall in time. Can you tell by the smell where the dead rat is?”
“It’s in the front room somewhere, probably by the front wall, because that’s where I saw the rat droppings before.”
“So, I’d have to come home, smell where the dead rat is in the wall, cut out the dry wall and hope that I cut a hole in the right place. Getting rid of a dead rat is pretty involved.”
“I figured it would be. Is there any chance at all we can get rid of the dead rat in the wall before the kids come over tonight?”
“I really don’t think so. Why don’t you call a service to remove the dead rat out of the wall? They’ll give you an estimate on how long it would take and whether you can still have the meeting tonight or not.”
“Good idea. Sorry to have bothered you, but this dead rat smell is just awful.”
“I bet. Good luck, hon. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I followed his advice and gave them a call. “I smell a dead rat in the wall, help!” I told them. They came out that afternoon, but I still had to postpone the meeting for another day. No reason to subject poor, innocent Boy Scouts to that stench.
I sent a last text to my husband later. “I was right, it was a dead rat. What do you want for dinner?”
He responded, “Let’s go out. Maybe do vegetarian tonight?”