I had a friend visit me the other night.
There I was, typing away late at night, the house mostly dark. Type-type-type. A balloon by the fireplace moves. Hmmm, must be losing air. The balloon at the ceiling moves. Followed by another balloon (yes, we do have a large number of balloons floating around).
Wait, those balloons aren’t all losing air at the same time, are they?
No, there’s a bird in my house.
Do birds have sonar? Do they flap around at night? Bizarre. I wonder why it’s coming for my head.
Not a bird.
A bat.
Son of a bitch.
There’s a bat in my house. I spring into action (ducking around, shrieking like a little girl), close the pocket doors, prepare to face my adversary…when I realize it’s gone. Poof.
Well played, Mr Bat. Well played. After a quarter of an hour searching through my house for the bat, I find it, tucked into a corner. Bravely, I poke it…with a broom handle. It yells at me. I poke it again. It yells louder. I gave it a little shove and it’s air borne again.
Luckily, they have such advanced sonar that they’ll never run into anything. Except a wall. And a mirror. And the light. And now he’s coming for me. Him or me? Simple choice.
I swatted him out of the air. Perfect swing. He spins out of control like Darth Vader’s tie-fighter after the Death Star. Except Darth Vader never went spinning into a radiator.
Crap.
Okay, more poking. More prodding.
Senor Bat never learned his lesson the first time. He comes at me again, obviously enamored with a rematch.
My second swing is just as good.
I send him packing out the front door. I proudly swing the door shut, having defeated the 4 oz beast.
This round goes to me, Bat. Don’t push me a second time.
Do you suddenly feel the urge to get a grey tights wearing sidekick with and eye mask, spouting corney sayings?
Rich!
Your bravery knows no bounds. Some day I’ll have to tell you about the cockroach in Cuba — If I can bring myself to tell that ambarrassing bit of history.
Suffice to say, it was not good, and neither my husband or I impressed our friend Julia with our complete lacke of bravery in the face of insect. My God that thing was huge!
Is this kind of like bats in your belfry? I’ve been wondering about that. It’s sad, any excuse for not writing. WORK.