Return of the Rat

Okay, so  I know this is the old Mark Morrison song "Return of the Mack," but honestly?  It's better when sung to the tune of "Return of the Rat."  No seriously.  Try it.

When I first mentioned Ratty McRat Rat, I neglected to tell you that I live above a very popular Italian restaurant.  The restaurant is clean and the food is yummy, but wherever there's a restaurant, there's vermin.  So what does that have to do with this post?  Well, the very popular Italian restaurant happens to be closed for the next two weeks for "vacation."   Today, at approximately 8:30 a.m., I heard the pleasant sounds of drilling, banging, clunking, and shouting and immediately put two and three together - which, by the way, do not equal four.   The restaurant downstairs is closed partly for vacation and partly for renovations.

Now can anyone tell me what the word "renovation" means?  Oh, that's right!  Ripping shit apart and putting new shit in its place.  Great.  Can someone tell me what ripping shit apart usually does?  Well, in my humble experience, it means vermin - such as rats, mice, roaches, etc.,- come crawling out of their established hiding places in search of new adventures.  They come out and explore/terrorize any and every living thing they might encounter - primarily me.

Ever since my Ratty McRat Rat sighting, my official national security level remains at red.  When I walk in the kitchen, I turn on the light and slowly inch around the corner.  That little rat terrorist has me afraid to sleep at night.  I should NOT be afraid of a home invader that walks around on all fours.  I need to hurry up and take my life back like Jodi Foster did in that one movie where Forest Whittaker invades her home and she kicks ass and takes names while doing so.

If only I weren't so afraid.