I am a brave girl. I mean I have no problem living alone. I don’t scream and run when I see a spider or any other creepy crawler that comes along. I have owned pet boa constrictors. But there is one thing I am terrified of. I mean to the point of hiding under a blanket, almost to the point of tears. That is how my youngest son found me the other night.
I cannot deal with bats invading my space. I try to find where they are getting in. One summer, I was watching at dusk to see if they were coming out of my unused chimney. I had turned around and saw one in the distance. I thought nothing of it, even though he was coming my way. He can “see ” me. As I turned back around and looked up at the chimney again, I felt a thump on the back of my head. I looked down and the fucker creepy creature was picking himself up off the patio floor and then flew off. OMG. I slowly made my way to the door, opened it and freaked out, screaming at my sons what I had just experienced. They say “yeah right mom” without taking their eyes off their video games. My sons knew (and I totally agree) I would have suffered a heart attack and died on the spot if something like that had really happened. But I survived! It was so fast, I mean, he didn’t even stay long enough to play in my hair.
So recently when I saw the bat fly by me, as I was sitting here on facebook, I grabbed the blanket and hid. I don’t have air conditioning. It was a thick fleece blanket. I estimate approximately 150 degrees under there. I had the sliding door open. Yes, the one that was broken, but still in tack, a pretty spider web of glass. I grabbed the thankfully nearby phone and called my youngun. He didn’t answer the phone so I left a lady in distress message. In the mean time, every time I cracked the blanket, I would see it, flying low and smashing into the screen. It was only a few feet from me. Dang, I thought, if only I could brave it up a bit, I could open the screen and he would go. I am not THAT brave. I try to sick the dog on it. She was on her bed, watching it fly around like it was another family pet. Meanwhile, I am sweating my ass off. Finally I hear the front door open and in he comes, my hero! After laughing at me, he gets the tennis racket and goes hunting. By then the little brown flying beast had given up on the screen and had traveled upstairs. Soon I heard some movement and down he comes, one dead bat balanced on tennis racket. I felt sad. I did not want him to die. I just wanted my home back.
My son decided we needed to play wii. It was the least I could do, hit some balls around a golf course with him, he had just saved my life and all. After he left I was locking up the place and as I pulled the slider closed, the broken glass half decided it was time to depart. I couldn’t just leave all that glass on the floor, the dog might get into it. I got out the vacuum. I realized the big chunks of glass would ruin it. I had to go to the basement, aka dungeon, to get the wet/dry industrial thing. I think I finally got to bed around 1:30. A few hours sleep and I had to get up and face work. Almost as traumatic as bats in the house. But just another exciting night at Poverty Corner.