Rats, Cats, and Bra Money

 "What? You guys did a party? There's a pandemic, did you know?"

The Husband is fully vaccinated. I am fully vaccinated. The Elder Son has had 1 dose. The kids stay with folks that are already in our circle. We carry sanitizer. We book outdoor parties. I wear a mask. The Husband wears a face shield. I'd prefer he wear a mask, but there's something about being a clown that requires makeup visibility. Ho hum.

Now that the snarky comment prevention has been done, we can get to the good part of the post! Our first party of 2021!

Location: Duplex home backyard. We've been there twice before to celebrate. To remind me which family it is, The Husband always says, "the Bra Money Party." There are some things that are unforgettable. One of those things is being paid cash straight from a sweaty bra in May. In Bra Money Mom's defense, it appears to have been a one time gaffe.

Plot Twist: weather forecast of heavy rain.

We arrive. After The Husband has dropped me and all our changarro off (parking spots were few), I proceed to find Bra Money Mom to ask which of the duplexes to set up in as it hasn't quite begun to rain and all attendees are still outside hanging out.

And I paraphrase:

Bra Money Mom: Inside? Do you really think that's necessary?

Me: It's your party. We'll do what you want. *pulls up weather app on phone*

Me: Ma'am? In 15 minutes, it's going to be pouring rain. I think you're going to want to move inside.

**************** 15 minutes later **********************

All set up, in a room with a scent implying a lack of hygiene, we begin. It's raining cats and dogs.

****************************************************

During balloons, I'm usually keeping one eye on my playlist while familiarizing myself with where we've stashed prizes, props, and tricks. I hear the song is ending so I leave the prizes to check which song is coming to make sure it works with the party's mood. As I step behind my table, a small, gray critter streaks out from under the tablecloth.

My brain immediately thinks of rats. Thankfully, I hold myself together. No one knows I'm FREAKING OUT, except for me. I am fully aware of the adrenaline situation I find myself in. I take a second look as the creature flees. It's a kitten. A very young, very gray, very rat-sized kitten.

Later, when we're packing up to leave I discover there is a full litter box under the cabinet next to where we had set up our table. Hence the smell; hence the rat cat.

It's always something at this home and I love it. It was such a fun party.