We have a squatter in our midst. This squatter has decided that the underside of our fiberglass tub makes a cozy home. It is unfazed by the constant trickle of water, two screaming kids who like to jump on it, the thunderous waterfall that our shower head produces, and my futile attempts to scare the bejeezus out of it by beating at the bathtub until my wrists turn blue.
It has occupied its new home for three weeks now, and despite that it has never once offered to pay rent, it struts around our property as if it owns the place. Tonight, I decided to be more clever than this carrier of fleas, as once again it was strutting outside my bedroom window getting into our recycling and flaunting his sense of entitlement to all the goodies our property has to offer.
My plan was/is as follows:
First spot the intruder making sure he has gotten far enough away from his makeshift front door to his lair.
Second, with the help of my lovely assistant (a.k.a. Dada) board up opening with the help of many, many heavy stones.
Third, continue to listen for more rustling sounds coming or hopefully not coming from the underside of the bathtub in the days to come for the possibility that our intruder found another way in or left us its brood. (This last part was what was keeping us from getting rid of our friend because the idea of his soon to be dead brood rotting in the underside of our bathtub made us want to puke!)
Lastly, plug hole around drain if no strange smell or noises come from the underside of the the tub. Otherwise, admit defeat and cough up a few hundred dollars to hire a professional.
Place your bets. More to follow...