The Biblical Book of Exodus recounts ten calamities that God sent to Egypt to convince the Pharaoh to let the Israelite slaves go.
Well, it seems that Local 10's Andrea Brody and the Pharaoh have a lot in common.
I am beginning to feel a bit of empathy for the Pharaoh -- not the enslaving my people part -- just the plague part.
This new-found camaraderie began this week at my family's Passover sedar. As my father ticked off the plagues that befell ancient Egypt, I found myself saying, "Hey, we have that!" just a bit too often.
It started, of course, with the invasion of our dysfunctional 4 a.m. crowing rooster -- or in Plague-speak -- wild animals.
We advanced to an elusive rat -- the vermin of ancient days.
Boils have nothing on the 14 Plantar's warts covering my son's feet.
Lice? Please, did that twice.
Frogs greet me on a nightly basis.
Hail and darkness are just accouterments to the impending Hurricane season.
This week, my kid had strep throat. If that's not pestilence, I don't know what is.
So that leaves us -- give or take -- to the picture marked Exhibit B.
If you can't quite make it out, the vague outlines resting on an upstairs window sill are wings. But not just any wings -- termite wings. Yes, just when I thought my biggest problem was the rat that continues to outsmart every human brought in to rid him, we are diagnosed with what the experts call, an ?active swarm." Lovely.
There is some good news in all this.
The exodus my family is soon to make, complete with all our food, medicine and cosmetics, will be followed by the menacing presence of a toxic gas. Sure, the giant striped tent over the house makes it a little less frightening than the descent of the Angel of Death, but aren't we just talking semantics here?
So, not only do I check off another plague on the list, but from where I'm sitting, there is no way the rat survives.