Feet in the Attic

We’re finally getting some overdue monsoon activity.  The first big storm hit the last week of July and included thunder, lightning, blowing dust, rain, the whole works.  It hit well east of Sun City first, then build up steam as it moved west before it finally landed over our house about 8:00, which also coincides with Mom’s bedtime.

Right about the time she got settled into bed, thunder rolled overhead and lightning lit up the backyard.  Just as the television picture broke into a thousand digital pieces when rain clouds briefly blocked the satellite signal in the southwestern sky, I heard the click, click, click of the Red Menace’s joystick being engaged and a minute later Mom was parked in the Arizona Room doorway.

“There’s feet up there,” she exclaimed over another rumble of thunder.  “They’re making too much noise.”

“Mom, it’s thunder, not feet,” I replied.  “There’s a storm moving in.”

“Well that may be, but the people upstairs are still making too much noise,” she countered, pointing toward the ceiling.  “Bill needs to tell them to settle down.”

Bill glanced over at me with a confused look on his face.  “Upstairs?” he whispered.  “People?”

“It’s a storm, Mom,” I replied with a sigh.  “We’re finally going to get some rain.  There is no upstairs, just the attic and it’s got to be 150 degrees up there.”

“I know that,” she responded defensively.  “But it’s still feet.  Feet in the attic.  And it’s loud.”  And with that, she turned abruptly and motored away.

“Does she think we have people living in the attic?” Bill asked as she rolled through the living room on her way back to bed.

“Not people,” she called out.  “Rats.  Big roof rats.”

“We don’t have roof rats,” I hollered after her.  “It’s THUNDER!”

“Rat!” came her retort from the hallway.  “With big FEET!”



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