It was late into the evening. Snoring Hubby would not let up. I nudged him, rolled him over, shushed him, begged him. Nothing worked. That man was tired and snoring was on his agenda. I finally gave up, grabbed my pillow and trotted down the hall to the ever so quiet spare room. Blissful quiet, sigh. Night night.
I don’t know how long I was asleep. An hour ..two? When I heard thwap thwap thwap thwap. I felt a small stirring of air near my face and ever so gently woke. There it was again….thwap thwap thwap.
Grabbed that pillow again and head back down the hall to the master bed. Why was I crawling in my wee PJ’s? Yawn. So tired. Back into our marital bed.
“Honey” I whisper. “Can you go scare the bird out of the house?”
I think I woke us both up with those words. Bird.In.House. Huh?
Hubby is awake now. Sits up in bed and turns on our lovely chic new bedside lamp.
AHHHHHH. THAT IS NOT A BIRD, THAT THING IS A BAT!!!
I scream and dive under the covers! Cowering like a frightened child. Shaking. He just sits and watches that hideous brown bat circle our ceiling! It leaves the master bedroom and comes back, leaves and comes back.
“GET IT….GET IT” I yell.
He just sits.
Hubby Says “I don’t know how? I play golf, that’s with a club..I play hockey…that’s with a stick, I play ball…with a bat. All the sports I play are with sticks. I need a racket or a net to get that thing.”
He is so calm and controlled. I am FREAKING out. Have just realized that when the damn bat is not with us it could be flying into one of the girls rooms.
I drop to the floor, and commando crawl back down the dreaded hall to shut my babies doors. Must not let the vampire creature near my darling daughters. Doors are closed, end of my bravery, duck into the closet to hide like the true girly coward I am.
Hero Hubby has begun to take action
*Warning rest of post is not PETA friendly
Hubby is swinging at bat with an over sized beach towel. Trying to stun it so we can get it out of our home. He is grunting, groaning swinging for all he is worth. (It is not easy to stop a bat armed with nothing but your PJ’s and a beach towel!) CRASH. There goes the new chic light. Finally he tells his oh so brave wife she can stop shaking and whimpering and come out of the closet and fetch him a shovel and pail to help remove one incapacitated bat. He has prevailed. The creature will bother us no more.
As I emerge from my hiding spot he yells
“What the F*&%#??? IT’S NOT DEAD!”
That bat got back up off my pristine beige carpet and started flying around AGAIN.
Hubby once again brandishes his weapon. The almighty beach towel. Smacks the chandelier a good one and then finally lays the bat to rest.
“Is it over?” I whimper.
“Yes” pants out of breath Hero Hubby, and then “Oh Crap..there is ANOTHER one!”
I will admit it, I’m not proud, but I was in tears by now.
Hubby battles Bat Number Two. He makes sure that sucker is dead..not just stunned.
We tossed a beach towel and two of God’s creatures in a garbage pail that night.
Battle of the bat lasted more then an hour and a half. When we finally ventured back to our marital bed, we left the bathroom light on….the ceiling fan too. I lay there trying to sleep, hearing every noise, fearing every movement. It was a lost cause. There would be no more deep snoring in Suburbia that night.
Bats in our house became a harrowing life experience. One I wish never to repeat. One that will give me nightmares and cost me precious sleep. We shall never tell the children. Can you have Post Traumatic Stress from an incident with a bat? Maybe living in Suburbia has made us soft.
Good luck to any of you who ever have to do battle with a bat.