No Safety in the Nest

It was Christmas Eve morning and I was in my craft room being a busy bee, buzzing around sewing and getting some presents together.  I finished up and was making my way to the parlor with an armload of wrapped gifts when it happened.

I fell into a five foot deep hole.  I can't begin to describe the terror I felt, having the floor disappear beneath my feet like that, in the safety of my own home.  It was so totally and utterly unexpected.  I let out a blood curling scream as the presents I was holding flew and smashed everywhere.  I kept screaming for awhile because I was so freaked out, in disbelief and shock.  Plus I was hurt.

I knew H was outside.  He was cleaning the fucking screen on the heater vent.  He had seen me puttering away in my room and remembered that I had asked him to please clean the vent before we left for Italy.  He thought to surprise me and was so proud of himself.  The hole I fell into usually has a heavy iron grate covering it and he had left the hole uncovered while in the midst of taking care of his chore.

He never came and rescued me either.  He actually heard my scream and ran to the street in front of our house, thinking someone had been hit by a car.  Finding no one bloody and dying in the street, he returned to his task at hand.  I just stood there in the hole hurting and sobbing.  I was so furious.  My injured feelings exceeded my injured body (and it was hurt).  "Who would do this?" I sobbed over and over.  I knew who did it, but I just couldn't comprend how anyone would do what H had done.  I could have killed myself falling into that hole.  I had crashed through the metal unit up to my knees with the floor now at about shoulder height.  When enough time has passed and H still hadn't returned to save me, I somehow managed to lift myself out and crawl into the bathroom.    There was some arnica cream close at hand and I was rubbing it into some of the obvious places where the lumps and bruises were starting to form, when H finally returned.

Besides "What kind of fucking idiot would do this?", I won't disclose all of the horrible things I had to say to H (I actually don't remember) but I rubbed furor into him while I rubbed the arnica into my wounds.  He deserved it, and he knew he deserved it.  I was pissed.  I mean, what kind of fu@#%*$...

I ended up with a cracked rib and a small but deep gash all the way to the bone in my leg. Those were the worst of the wounds but I was fairly bruised and banged up all over my body.

Fast forward to last night.  I was cooking dinner and looking for my spatula when I noticed a couple of things had fallen onto the floor under the shelve so I stuck my hand down there to retrieve them when it happened.  The rat trap snapped and smashed my finger.  Again I screamed, and H did come to my rescue this time.  I was literally out of my mind furious.  My body was shaking and I could barely contain my rage.  I was definitely experiencing PTS from the aforementioned  fall.  The emotional threat I felt in both of these incidences was immense.  I was yelling, "Who did this?  Who set a rat trap in my kitchen without telling me?  What kind of fucking idiot would do this?!"  I felt utterly sabotaged.

There were several people in and out of our house while H and I were in Italy.  There had been some scurrying rat sounds heard and so a trap was set....