I guess these troubles come to us all,
eventually. You work with food, you’re gonna suffer the critters.
The previous Home Ec teacher here had it rough –
I don’t know how often she started her day with a classroom festooned with
urine trails, but anything more than “once” is too much.
When we moved into the new building, it was
only a couple of weeks before the first rat sighting. Traps were placed, steps
were taken and things settled down.
Several weeks ago, after a cold snap, a
teacher came face to face with a rat in his classroom. I moved all food to the
fridge or freezer. Traps were placed and things settled down.
Nope! About a week ago, my room and another showed clear signs of after hour rats. In my room, the
rat tried to chew its way out from under the door, apparently running laps
around the room when that got boring. I’m not sure how it got out. Did it get
out?
Monday, one week later: I enter my room,
glancing around for attackers as I enter the room. It smells a bit funky. Hmm.
Maybe they cleaned with something different? Ugh. I open a window and the
outside door to freshen things up.
Later: Still stinky. Smells like natural
gas, something sulphur-y. Maybe they’re bleeding the gas lines nearby? That’s
happened before. Email the boss. Check the outside air to decide which is
worse. Outside smells pretty good! Open the door a little more.
While most of the room smells okay with the
air blowing through, there’s an area that still packs a punch. Thirty kids all
need my attention Right Now, This Minute, so it has to wait.
Lunchtime: Others have noticed the odd
smell. I close the inside and outside doors and go upstairs for lunch. My head
hurts. That’s not unusual, actually. Half an hour later, I’m back and my rowdy
7/8s are waiting to start class. I unlock the door and they tumble in. And
immediately pour back out, noses buried in their shirts. Okay – time to get the
boss.
The principal, the shop teacher and I fan
out to locate the smell. The shop teacher finds it, just a moment before the
principal would have… and I remove 30 slightly nauseous and skittish teenagers
to another room. You know, at this point, some adult company would be nice. A
strong drink would also be nice. "Starbucks Passion Tea"... where are you?
I debrief them. Yes, it was a rat. Yes,
it’s dead. Yes, the caretaker is removing it. Yes, the room in being cleaned.
Now… we need to talk about our upcoming
cooking lab! I clap my hands brightly, put on my best “teacher” voice and say –
let’s talk about COOKIES! They groan. All of them. Food and rats do NOT belong
in the same 40 minute block. I agree. But we have cookies to make.
The next two days involved a lot of
cleaning and re-organizing, and a little paranoia. There’s never just ONE RAT,
and I keep eyeing the suspected entry point(s) for beady little eyes bent on
vengeance.
p.s. a few days later, they did bleed the
gas lines nearby. It was horrible. The fire department came for a visit.
