Let's go back. WAaaaaayyyy back so that our heads touch the floor, to a time where I was pregnant with my first bambino. Ah, the days of innocence. Before I knew what "tired" meant. Before I had enough extra skin on my stomach to craft a babushka....
doodley doo. doodley doo. doodley doo....
Setting the scene...
November 1999. Small Sears kit house from the 1920's with a weird heating system.
Enter younger version of Tracey. Short hair with less gray and bad perm. ENORMOUS pregnant belly (and ass). Carries bag with Taco Bell goodies inside.
After a long day of work, I stumble through the door into a frigid house. Shivering and vaguely recalling something that dear husband said about "...don't turn on the heat... blah blah.... something in the chimney... blah blah... wait for me to get home..." I disregard what spouse said because it is FRIGID in the house and I am PREGNANT and I need heat. And also Taco bell tacos and Orange Crush, but I digress...
Flip on the heater and get changed, watch a little tv while waiting for the house to warm up and DARLING husband to get home from his late shift. Notice that the cats are being all weird and chasing each other. Grumble to myself about the stupid stinkin cats...
Hear one of the cats make a strange, otherworldly mrowling growling hiss...
Look into the tiny galley kitchen to see my BELOVED feline friend(I was pregnant and totally allowed 180 mood changes) having a stand off with a rabid squirrel!!
Ok. He probably wasn't rabid. I mean, he wasn't foaming at the mouth but I WAS PREGNANT and holy shit! A SQUIRREL?!? In my HOUSE?!? Are you freakin kidding me?!?
Jump around like a little girl.
Well, maybe not little girl, as I was HUMONGOUS but you can picture it, right? Gestating and gesticulating, I grabbed a broom and began to swipe and shout at the top of my lungs at the squirrel, who just glared at me before he darted AT ME because the cat was chasing it the wrong way!
Somewhere in the midst of this hysteria, I snatched the phone and called Patrick at work. The conversation went something like:
Tracey: "SQUIRREL! IN THE HOUSE!! RABIES! MY BAAAAAAABBBY!!!"
Patrick: "Why did you turn on the heater?"
Tracey: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? SQUIRREL!!!!!! GET HOME!!!! AYIEIEIEIEEEEE!!!!"
Patrick: "I have to do blah blah blah work related crap blah blah and will get home when I can...."
Tracey: "YOU ARE COMING HOME NOW!!!! SQUIRREL!!! IN THE HOUSE!!!! RABIES! MY BAAAAABYYYY!!!"
Seriously. It would have been comical had I not been sobbing and screaming and TRULY terrifed for my baby's life. And my beloved cat's life, who got trapped in the basement with the rabid rodent when they both ran down and I slammed the door shut.
Thank God Patrick worked close to home back then. He got there in about 15 minutes and managed to chase the nasty beast up the stairs and out the back door. But I am telling you now, it was horrible!
(Apparently, the squirrel had gotten into our chimney through a hole in the screen on the rooftop and couldn't get out. Apparently, Patrick had KNOWN this and didn't make it crystal clear to me that it was still in our heating vents. Had I KNOWN that there was a live rodent in our heating vents, I not only wouldn't have turned the heater on, I also wouldn't have COME HOME that night!!)
Moral of the story: Don't turn on the heat if your spouse says it might be a bad idea. CALL him first and find out what he meant, no matter how cold you are and how much you want to just eat your tacos in peace and quiet.