The Truth Behind The Showering Rat Tale

I think, therefore I am, a rat. But not just any rat.

I'm a little late to the party that celebrates and/or condemns the rat that turns out not to be a rat taking a shower that he may, in reality, if there is such a thing, not be enjoying, although, spoiler alert, looks may be deceiving:

This particular viral sensation has been kicking around since January, but it wasn't until the other day that I even saw it, thanks to Nury, one of my Laughing At Lifers. Immediately, I had to share it with longtime hubby. "Honey, you have to see this rat taking a shower." "Do I really have to?" "Yes. It looks real." "No way it's real." This, before he'd even watched it. Then he watched it. "@#$%, this looks real." Doubting human that he is, but only of most humans, not to mention suspicious, showering rats, he started in with the Googling and found "the truth behind the rat taking a shower." To be honest, I wasn't sure I could handle the truth behind the rat taking a shower. And now, I know way too much about the alleged showering rat, and sadly, so do my workshop peeps. After we watched the video, and swayed back and forth, as we tend to do, to the peppy musical track, I inflicted upon them the article hubby found revealing all you'd never want to know about the showering Peruvian rat that isn't a rat but is, in fact...

 A Pacarana!

According to an "urban rat biologist" who specializes, and why wouldn't he, in "rat diversity," "soap is definitely unnatural for rodents." Well, that particular shocking statement, along with the big pacarana reveal, pushed the SJG over the edge. Let's just say I got hysterical and it wasn't a pretty sight. "Oh, God, there she goes," said Bruce. This wasn't the first time I've lost it in front of my wonderful and wise accomplices in all things silly. I couldn't continue and had to turn the rest of the rat shower exposé over to the gal we call Carol II, a brilliant actress of stage and screen, and most importantly, the recent recipient of the Horror  Hall of Fame. I figured she could summons the necessary horror to read this investigative report without breaking character, a skill set I clearly don't possess. The way she delivered the alarming conclusion, with just the right amount of theatricality and seriousness, well, it deserved yet another award: "So it seems," Carol II imparted, as though reciting a Shakespearean soliloquy, "the rodent wasn't so much cleaning himself with soap as he was desperately trying to remove it." And there you have it, my friends, the end of the tail. You're welcome. And please, don't try this at home.