a stranger in the night

Last night i was dreaming about trying to identify a murderer (courtesy of reading miss marple late at might), when i was suddenly awakened by timmy, who said he could hear a rat squeaking. I was kind of apathetic at first, because i was still half asleep.
THEN i realised he said rat.
now let me explain a little.
the rats at my house aren't the cute, cuddly domesticated rats you see scampering around in the pet shops. the rats at my house aren't sweet genius' like ratatouille.
the rats at my house are big, mean and greedy. When they last attacked, they bit potatoes (a few, and they didn't even finish one potato before they bit the next one.),so we couldn't eat them. They gnawed at onions and herbs in our herb and onion box. They skulked on top of plastic boxes so my mother got a frightful shock when she went to  get something, because those rats don't budge for no man's pleasure. These rats are like the disease carrying rats of elizabethan england. they are intimidating, like ratatouille's dad
AND WORSE, these rats could carry diseases that could kill us if they bit us. or at least drive us insane (literally). which is why, of course, after i got to my senses, i felt really scared.
The sensation of fear (in me at least), is often accompanied by the urge to wee.
SO, i needed to use the toilet, at the dead of night, with a rat possibly creeping about and waiting to sink its teeth into my leg.
NASTY
i asked timmy to come with me to the toilet.
he refused ( :( )
so i held it in, woke my mum,  and THEN timmy realised that the rat sqeaking was actually the fan squeaking.
what a palava.
anyway, i could then use the toilet without fear.
as they say,
all's well that end's well.