I never thought I'd keep a blog until The Squirrel. Now I have come to realize the importance of blogging so we will never forget this experience in detail. I will write from my perspective with a summary of the conversations. So without further ado, I give you The Squirrel.
It's Friday afternoon. I am exhausted from staying out way too late dressed up as The Red Queen for a costume contest the night before. I am supposed to get all made up again for the second night in a row for a Halloween dress-up birthday party for three-year old twins at a bar. Yep I wrote that correctly. This time tough, instead of just me I have to get the kiddos ready and hubby psyched up for a dress-up party for three-year old twins in a bar. (I think I just really like saying that!) I can already tell it will be a long night.
Hubby comes home as the kids and I head to Wal-Mart for some last minute supplies. Hubby calls and says something is wrong with the toilet so he has to head out for a pipe snake. We get home from Wal-Mart and hubby says he doesn't think he can go to the party because he had to call a plumber as he was unable to plunge or snake the toilet. If hubs can't make it to this party then there is no way momma can either. I simply cannot do a two and five year old in a bar dressed up as the Red Queen. This announcement then leads to utter and complete meltdowns by both children who were so looking forward to dressing up for the twins birthday [party in a bar]. The plumber hubs called said they would not be here until at least two hours.
So I'm thinking, "What's the big deal? Surely a clogged toilet could wait until the morning." Now I am starting to have a meltdown over the kids meltdown! What to do, what to do. Oh yes, I will call my dear friend Monica because Monica and her husband know someone who does everything. They may still live a little in the 80's with home phones and answering machines, but a Rolodex with business cards and phone numbers sure does come in handy. Unfortunately for me, Monica has caught up with us in some respects and has contacts in a cell phone now...mind you she just got a cell phone last year. Anywhoo...I call Monica:
Me: Hey Monica, it's Karey. Listen, I need to get right to the point. I need a plumber like right now. You know everyone. You know a plumber?
Monica: Yes, but I don't know his number. Eddie has it but he's out of town giving a speech and you can't reach him. Um, Steve might have it.
Karey: Ok thanks. What's the plumber's name?
Monica: I don't know. He's the one who lives across from me. His son's name is Patrick.
Karey: Okay, I'll call Steve.
Me: Hi Steve, it's Karey Foster. Um, I have to get right to the point. Do you know the number of the guy who lives down the street from you who is a plumber. His son is Patrick.
Steve: No I sure don't but Eddie might have it. Call him.
Sounds like a great idea, but see my conversation with Monica. Okay, so what to do now before meltdowns continue. Should I brave it to the bar birthday for three-year old twins by myself? Hell to the NO! I try to rationalize with my 2 and 5 year old why we can't go. Oh dear God, the meltdowns only get worse. Now it's time for business. Drastic times call for drastic measures.
So I have seen Mr. no-name plumber drive out of my neighborhood a million times. He works for George. And that's all I know. The sign on his truck says, "Yell George!" I'm gonna go Yell George at his house. I get in the car and drive by his house. I'm stalking because I drive by twice just to be sure the giant white Yell George truck is hiding in his one-car driveway. No luck so I come home.
I know, I'll google Yell George! And so the true stalking begins. I find the Yell George website and start looking around for names, pictures, any info I can get my eyes on. And there it was, F. Foster, plumber 2nd in Command to George himself! YES! So, my last name is Foster too just in case you didn't know. So now I know who he is and where he works but how can I get Mr. Foster to come over to my house, and fast! I know, I'll just call. It's not quite 6pm so the office might still be open.
Me: Um Hi. My name is Karey Foster and I am looking to get in touch with F. Foster....but I'm not related to him. I am a neighbor...but nothing is wrong with his house. I just need to know if I can get a hold of him.
Man who thinks I am crazy: Oh you mean L. Foster. No one calls him F. (This is where I think to myself of course I didn't know that because I AM NOT RELATED!)
Me: Sure. Well, I know you can't give me his number, but is there any way you can find out if I can get a hold of him? I'm having an emergency plumbing issue. (Well, the emergency is getting my kids to a bar party, not the potty. The potty's holding us up.)
Man: Well, I could give you the number if you were family, but since you are not, let me see if I can get ahold of him on his cell. (He places me on hold and now I'm thinkin' I should have used this whole same name thing to my advantage....long lost daughter, etc, etc) Okay ma'am, he's on his way home and can be there in about 30 min.
Whew! So the kids are happy now and we begin to get dressed for the party. Plumber shows up with his snake and begins snaking the toilet. I must say at this point that our poor two-year old has now been grilled multiple times as to what she put in the toilet. In future posts you will get to know LB better, but for now, just trust me that it would not be far fetched for LB to have placed an elephant down there. Anyway, I hear Plumber ask Hubby what the kids could have stuffed in the toilet, meat maybe? I thought that was some weird comment or joke so I go take a look. Sure enough Plumber Foster is placing meaty items on the floor and say, "You have a rat stuck in there." WHAT? That is disgusting! Hubs replies, "But we have Terminix come out!" And the Plumber says, "Son, it didn't come through the house! It came up through the sewer and got stuck."
I continue to turn myself into the Red Queen while the plumber goes to get more tools out of the truck. I check back in a few minutes later and he's standing there holding a soaking wet dead squirrel with forceps. Remember when I said he was pulling out pieces of meat? Well, the squirrel is essentially missing half his face and head. I am amazed to say the least. I get the camera and immediately shout to the girls to come see the squirrel the plumber just pulled out of the toilet. They run upstairs to see when my five year old screams in horror, "SAMMY!!!" And the hysterical crying begins. I am now thinking I am the worst mother ever!
You see, for several years now my oldest has had a special relationship with a squirrel. She truly believes the squirrel, Sammy, lives in a tree out front our house. Sammy has shown up at Disney World, in Alabama, Florida, school, anywhere. If there is a squirrel, Sammy somehow followed us again! Sammy has a sister, Lisa, and a whole lot of cousins, friends, family, etc. I forget all their names. It's just a thing we've always just gone along with. We eventually console her and convince her is was not Sammy. Plumber takes the credit card info and says the charge won't go through until then. He doesn't know how much this is going to cost. Great.
While driving two hours late to the twins' three-year old birthday party at the bar, our daughter speaks very quietly and says it was not Sammy. It's wasn't even a squirrel because squirrels have bushy tails and the rat in the toilet did not have a bushy tail. We leave it at that.
In the end the squirrel rat cost $75 to be removed from the toilet. He came through the roof vent. I'm glad he got stuck and drowned. Otherwise, they hop out when you lift the lid and that would have been a whole other experience I would have not wanted to live!