Visiting Rats

Wednesday, June 13th, 2007

No one tells you about those pilot runs when a child nearing adulthood lives with you.

The little nudges and tests that allow children between 18 and 21 to get ready to be in the world and allows parents to let go—the time between their independence and your parental freedom.

One of my daughter’s test runs began when she and her boyfriend, Ari, started dating. While they attended community college together they split their time between our home and his. At first, my husband, son and I found it difficult to accommodate Ari being around. A year later, Venny and Ari have matured and remain supportive and loving toward each other, and we’ve grown used to them.

Late one evening, Venny entered our bedroom carrying an unnamed, four-month old rodent with a classic pink tail and long pink toes on each of four feet—a rat—with a white fur coat and individualized black markings, by which Venny could distinguish it from the other three.

Venny reported—wearing the legendary grin that cats sport after catching and eating one of the things she was holding—that she gave Ari a special edition DVD gift box set for their first anniversary and he bought her rats.

“I got the far better deal,” she said.

Always an animal lover, Venny held her present out for us to see. It bobbed its head up and down and stuck its nose into the air exploring the scents in the room.

Rats are one reason I find myself wishing my beautiful daughter had her own home. Still a college student, she’ll be taking courses this summer and can’t afford her own apartment. For now, Venny and Ari and the rats—Iris, Relm, Sumi, and Nico—live with us part time.

It turns out, the rats each have their own personality: some are braver or calmer or more playful than the others. One has a sense of humor.

“Look how cute they are, Mom.”

Watching Ari and Venny carry the rats on their shoulders and parade them around my living room, I had a crazy-woman’s thought that these whisked creatures might be pseudo-grandchildren.

Now I’m more ready than I was a year ago for the transition to her independence and my freedom. No more test runs involving anything sporting a pink tail required.

By Patricia Ljutic

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ABOUT THIS AUTHOR

Patricia Ljutic’s poetry, memoirs and essays have been published in national and regional publications including the Adams’ Media anthologies, My Mom Is My Hero and A Cup of Comfort for Parents of Children with Special Needs, and The Bay Area Poet’s Coalition, The Contra Costa Times, Sage Woman, Circle Magazine and Ciao! Travel with Attitude. A Writing Mama since 2006, Patricia writes about her daughter, niece and son, a boy who has blessed her with unexpected experiences: Monster Trucks, batting cages, behavioral plans, neuro feedback, the complexities of Attention Deficit/ Hyperactivity Disorder, and the extraordinary resilience of his spirit. In addition to writing and her family, Patricia loves silk scarves, amber jewelry, velvet jackets and cooking country Italian. Currently, she is working on several short fiction and non-fiction pieces and a book that has not yet decided what it’s going to be when it grows up.

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