I quickly figured out that rats can hear.
You see, to get from the upstairs living area to the garage, then around the corner to the dark side of the garage, I had to navigate a flight of wooden steps. I don’t know if you have ever noticed, but wooden steps have attitudes. When you try to be quiet, like when trying to sneak home as a teenager, well after curfew, in a beer induced state of grace and elegance, those wooden stairs tend to SCREAM! They also tend to move around on you unexpectedly, but that’s another story.
My son and I figured out that proper Ninja shoes are important to maintain good sound discipline. Too bad we didn’t have any. Being manly men, we went barefoot – and hoped like crazy that our little friend was up in the ceiling crossbeams and not on the floor. We would have had to scream like little girls, and that would definitely not be ninja-like.
It was then that we realized that clothes make noise. Lot’s of noise. I now understand why real ninjas wear pajamas instead of Levis. Dang, this garage safari was starting to get really expensive.
So after about a dozen tries to sneak down into the garage and catch our little friend out of his safe little Tora Bora cave, we finally figured out how to do it quietly.
The hunt was on. During Final Jeopardy, we baited the cross beams outside his hovel, then waited until “Chuck” was over to make our move. Weapons locked and loaded, shoes lost, ninja uniforms donned, down those attitudinal wooden steps we went.
It was then that I heard my son eating Rice Krispies. Except he wasn’t. Turns out it was my 45 year old knees. So much for quiet as a ninja.
Sneaky ninja stuff is definitely for kids.