"Drat, a rat!" a cry rang out from the kitchen.
"Everything okay in there, dear?" I called out from the living room.
"There's a rat in the kitchen!" my wife answered, panicked.
I sighed and hit the release on my recliner. My feet plummeted to the carpet and I slipped them into my house shoes, cognizant of my ankle monitor. A partially involuntary grunt escaped my lips as I pushed myself to standing. I made my way to the kitchen.
