I have OCD.
I mean, all my therapist ever talks about is Generalized Anxiety Disorder but trust me, I have OCD, as well. It’s kinda like my side (dis)order.
So, when we discovered the rat problem in our house, it was quite literally my worst mental nightmare. They’re dirty, sneaky, germy and ratty. I haven’t slept in weeks. I don’t open cabinets anymore. And I’ve stopped cooking, cold turkey.
Well, a friend recently told me about these electric rat traps. They’re like little tunnels that the rat runs through and ZZZAP! Before it even gets a lick of the JIF, it gets 4 C batteries straight to the heart. DOA. Then the light blinks so you know you have a tenant and you just dump it out and reset the trap. Genius.
Last week we set the electric trap and caught a rat bastard on the first night. BINGO! But after Jason emptied the corpse into the trash and reset the trap, my OCD went into overdrive.
My OCD: Clean the trap, Nicole. You know you want to. Clean it. It’s so dirty. A dead rat was in that trap. Clean it now. Wait! Stop, Nicole. You can’t touch that trap. It’s so dirty. A dead rat was in that trap. Ask Jason. He’ll clean the trap. Tell him to just rinse it out with water because chemicals might create a deterent for future rats from entering and then we’ll be right back where we started and never catch another rat again. Hurry, Nicole! Get Jason to clean the trap. Do it now!
Me: Hey, Jason?
Me: Ummm, the directions say you should clean the trap out so the next rat doesn’t sense “dead rat” and run away from it. Ya know? But they say not to use any cleaners. Just a little water.
And off he went. The best husband ever. Cleaning out the ELECTRIC trap with a little water so his wife can rest easily knowing it’s all set for the next kill.
That’s when my OCD turned off and my normal mind turned on. WATER! ELECTRICITY! OH MY GOD! My OCD was about to kill my husband. I’m going to be the next story on Dateline! I can hear Keith Morrison now. “They seemed like the perfect, all-American, Catholic-Jewish, 5-foot-nothing family. Then one day a rat ate through their kitchen cabinets. That’s when Nicole set the trap and Jason took the bait.”
So there he was. Jason. About to zap himself. But did I say anything? No, sir. I just stood in the hallway, ready to spring into action and call 911 as soon as the electric current started streaming through Jason’s body… because I love him.
Now, If you’re reading this and judging me or shaking your head, then I can only assume you either 1.) don’t have OCD or 2.) are not married. Because 1.) if you had OCD you’d understand taking a minor risk like death just so things could be clean and 2.) if you were married, you’d never admit you were wrong. That’s just not how it works.
P.S. Jason is smarter than I give him credit for. He turned the switch off before cleaning the trap. We are still married happily ever after.