Friday, October 30, 2009


Last night, I was headed to a cooking class.
A class I have looked forward to for months.
French cooking.
Which means butter. Lots and lots of butter.
I love butter.
But when I went to get in my car?
It wouldn't start.
I panicked, called my husband and took his instead.

This morning, when the guy came to jump start my beloved minivan?
He found a fried rat in the engine.

Someone please come hold me.


Domestic Diva said...

Eww, but if it was fried you should have sampled it... couldn't be any worse then what you ate in China, right? So when you say rat is it rat or squirl/chimpmunk?

Lollyblogger said...

Domestic Diva, You have me laughing out loud. I will dig up pictures from my Chinese countryside lunch so you can see them for yourself. They do bear a striking similarity to what was in my engine.