I Don’t Do Vermin

I am a mom. I clean puke. I clean poop. I clean pee. I scrub and sweep and wash with the best of them. I do heavy lifting and plenty of hard, thankless labor.

I don’t do vermin. I hate vermin in my house. I made it clear, when I married my husband, that I would pull my weight in all aspects of our relationship but that HE was responsible for removing all endoskeletal vermin from our home. That means I’ll squish and flush bugs, but I won’t touch anything else. When we lived in Pennsylvania, an occasional bat or bird would fly down the chimney. I would yell for ask  WineGuy to please GET IT OUT OF MY remove it from the house. He would run around holding a tennis racket or broom in one hand and the waistband of his pants in the other and finally chase the thing out the window. Yes, it was comical to watch a great bear of a man flailing at a small animal trying its damnedest to seek refuge somewhere in the farthest corner of the 12-foot ceiling.

Fast forward to two days ago. I finished making lunches when I noticed my cat, Tuk-Tuk (the fat, dumb one), staring curiously at the foot of a table. “Did you puke,” I asked him. “Mrrp,” he replied. Nope. I looked closer and then hollered at the top of my lungs announced, “FROG IN THE HOUSE. THERE’S A FROG IN THE HOUSE. GET THE FROG OUT OF MY HOUSE!” No one moved. Wild Thing grabbed the flyswatter to apparently smack the thing to death. No, I didn’t want that. Moose ran in circles and refused to pick the thing up. Wizard was upstairs in the shower, but WineGuy was still home (hiding in our bedroom). I marched myself back to our room and repeated myself, “There’s a frog in the house. You have to get it out. I don’t do vermin.” WG grabbed the broom and shooed the little amphibian out on to the lanai. He was the only one with the cojones to face the frog. My sons are feckless wimps . . . wusses . . . girly-men . . . useless as tits on a bull.

Later that day, I told the story to Wizard, who smirked at me. Indignantly, I pointed to my ketubah and said, “It’s all written right there, in Aramaic, for anyone to read. ‘The bride does not do vermin.'”

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6 thoughts on “I Don’t Do Vermin

  1. I did vermin this morning when I awoke to find my two kitties staring at the almost dead body of a tiny mouse…no one to get rid of it but me (the cats haven’t figured out yet that they are supposed to eat them, they just play with them until they get bored).

  2. I have the same rule. Thankfully we don’t have a lot of intrusions. the one time we did, SweetPrince and his brother did handle it. My boys are pretty good about things so I am OK until the youngest leaves the house. Then I might actually have to get married again just to avoid the vermin thing 😉

  3. When we had a flying squirrel in the house, I held the front door open with a pillow in front of me to guide him out, but the men in the house had to chase the slippery little guy around…

    I don’t clean bathrooms either.

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