Ratatouille

My new found temporary bachelorhood has paid its first dividend. I have a new member now staying with me in the big apartment. It is a RAT. ­čÖé

It is not the first time I’m dealing with a rodent in a house, though I must say this is certainly the first of its kind I have encountered with. Rats are notorious for creating a ruckus and damaging things at house, especially food grains. The last time a rat was inside our house, he had chewed off a part of the sofa, a towel and even nibbled the buttons of the TV remote control! Not to mention the filth he would spread inside the shelves, drawers and other places. Such hooliganism is seldom tolerated and then you have no choice but to catch him and throw out or worse, just put him to permanent sleep.

But this guy, the new one, is surprisingly well behaved. He doesn’t eat off the towel or the remote control. In fact he has not even ventured in the shelf where food grains are kept. He is hungry, but a┬áconnoisseur. He savours on the cooked food only. It is hard to believe but true. Few days back, the maid had cooked Paranthas for me. I had some in the morning and left 3 of them so that I could have them later in the afternoon. But I left the house and didn’t return till the evening. So when I checked the Paranthas, they were only two of them left. The lid on the ‘dabba’ in which paranthas were kept was also well placed. On further inspection I found the half eaten Paratha under the basin. Then two days back I┬ácoincidently┬áleft the pack of biscuits on the table. Next morning I found it properly opened and 2 biscuits were missing. Hmmm… ratatouille.┬á┬á┬á­čÖé

Now would you want to kill a rat like that?

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