Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Ummmm…Rodents For Dinner Anyone?

Once upon a Thanksgiving my daughter went to cook a frozen pizza in our oven.  Aw….come on… like none of you has ever had pizza for Thanksgiving… or wanted to?  So she opens the door of our 1950’s O Keefe and Merrit oven and… SCREAMS!  Right????  Since when is Pepperoni scary?  Ok ok… if you have high blood pressure maybe… but the girl is only 16.  So what is going on in our kitchen?

Folks, It’s one of those awesome….MOM TO THE RESCUE MOMENTS!  Hooray for me! I get up from the sofa… (you can start playing the theme to Super Man now if you’d like…)  Annnnd…. you better play it quick because I have a confession to make.  I have a fear of whiskery creatures that can make noises in your walls at night.  Did I mention we had been fighting a war with rats?

My daughter had been spearheading a campaign against them.  But keeping it real… a pair of rats sitting on what was about to be our pizza rack was a little too much for her.  I would love to tell you that my mother style adrenaline kicked in and I single handedly removed the rodents from our oven but…that would be a lie.

So I’ll tell you one of the things I did do.  I googled rats to see if it was possible to eat them.  OK…Ok…maybe not my most nurturing moment.  Just listen for a second…  I was googling to find out whether or not any cultures cooked rats.  No! I am not turning in my Mama Card.

Guess what I found?  Rat flambe!  Seriously.. Rats have been used in French cooking.I would have posted the link but you know how I feel about rats….  And yes..I know that the picture on this post is not a rat…it’s a hamster. And no we did not eat him instead.

So why did I look up such a thing?  Well… I thought it might be a teachable moment on Perspective.  You disagree?   Yeah… my daughter did too.

You want to know why I thought you would want to read about such a horrible thing?  Oh come on… the way I see it I have done mommies and daddies everywhere a huge favor.  The next time your child complains about what’s for dinner… you tell him or her about me… and whatever you serve… is about to look reaaaaaaaaaaal good.

 

 

 

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Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

15 comments

    • Ok… I won’t.. buuuut…can i tell you I was so whisker crazed that I ordered my daughter to turn the oven so high as to exterminate the pair of them Nebuchadnezzar style …thankfully their God delivered them …they crept out of a hole in the oven and were later found in a Pappazon chair which was thrown outside because…it was too big to put in the oven;)

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