Get That Rat…
My mother is an immaculate housekeeper. As a child, I do not remember a speck of dust on a lamp shade, a single fingerprint on a door or a kitchen floor not worthy to be eaten off. She was also diligent about keeping the house up to date color wise so she used what little time she had in the summer to paint a room or baseboards or both. The family teased her that if we stood still long enough in the summer, she’d paint us. She’ll argue both points with me but she’ll lose. I have witnesses.
Labor Day weekend, our family hosted friends from Montgomery. We started the tradition just after we moved to Birmingham. I think Mom and Dad wanted to show them the new house that first year and then, well, it stuck. Every year Mom and Mrs. S would talk about the menu and the plans for the upcoming weekend. I’m not exactly sure why there was discussion. We pretty much did the same thing and ate the same thing every year. Regardless, Adam and I were in the kitchen one year while Mom and Mrs. S were having their usual discussion.
Mom says something along the lines of oh, Mrs. S, I have to tell you I have been so busy these last few weeks. The house is just a mess.
Mrs. S then argues with her, no doubt, assuring her our house is always clean.
Mom continues with no really, it’s so embarrassing. I hope you’ll forgive the mess.
My brother, who has been listening to mom and likely watching me make faces at her, decided to put an end to this nonsense and yells:
GET THAT RAT!!!
Perfect.
My mother is an immaculate housekeeper. As a child, I do not remember a speck of dust on a lamp shade, a single fingerprint on a door or a kitchen floor not worthy to be eaten off. She was also diligent about keeping the house up to date color wise so she used what little time she had in the summer to paint a room or baseboards or both. The family teased her that if we stood still long enough in the summer, she’d paint us. She’ll argue both points with me but she’ll lose. I have witnesses.
Labor Day weekend, our family hosted friends from Montgomery. We started the tradition just after we moved to Birmingham. I think Mom and Dad wanted to show them the new house that first year and then, well, it stuck. Every year Mom and Mrs. S would talk about the menu and the plans for the upcoming weekend. I’m not exactly sure why there was discussion. We pretty much did the same thing and ate the same thing every year. Regardless, Adam and I were in the kitchen one year while Mom and Mrs. S were having their usual discussion.
Mom says something along the lines of oh, Mrs. S, I have to tell you I have been so busy these last few weeks. The house is just a mess.
Mrs. S then argues with her, no doubt, assuring her our house is always clean.
Mom continues with no really, it’s so embarrassing. I hope you’ll forgive the mess.
My brother, who has been listening to mom and likely watching me make faces at her, decided to put an end to this nonsense and yells:
GET THAT RAT!!!
Perfect.
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