Daddy says that our anti-insect system in the mansion is ‘state-of-the-art’. I will have to ask my tutor, Copernicus, what that actually means, because I simply can’t make head or tail of it. He was on edge for a frightfully long time after Mummy discovered ants in the bread bin. The whole place was in an uproar, so much so that I had my friend Matilda over for a playdate and we had to go out on the grounds to one of our treehouses to escape the ruckus.
Men in funny suits running back and forth, Daddy barking orders…I later found out that he had summoned every pest control expert from Mornington and beyond to the house, and they were slightly surprised to find that they were all there at the same time. It was like a convention, I suppose. Matilda must have thought that our home had gone utterly mad. I rather think it had!
Now, the mansion has all kinds of ways out keeping the animals outside. There’s also a panic button in the kitchen that Mummy can press if she sees a termite or a cockroach, and it’ll summon a pest control agent. I rather think that Daddy dislikes insects and bugs somewhat, given his reaction. He sacked the entirety of the kitchen staff and brought in new ones, then gave them extensive training in spotting infestations. Golly, I’d hate to see how he’d react if he knew I was keeping a stray rat in my room and feeding him random bits of French brie I manage to steal from the afternoon tea platter. I think he likes it, but I just think about how Daddy would react if he saw my little friend. Then again, he never actually comes into my room, being far too busy with office matters. Mummy wouldn’t understand either, and I just know that Archie would tell on me, the little beast.
Those termite control people from Mornington are terrible efficient, however. Perhaps it’s time my rat friend found a new home. Then he could bite someone else for a change.