Friday, May 18, 2012

The Battle of the Bat

It's finally summer time in this college town.  A lighter course-load, plenty of sunshine, and day-drinking has become much more socially acceptable.  And all the undergrads are gone.  But something else has taken their place.  Nature.  Freaking Nature.  How did I know this invasion was occurring?  I found a bat in our kitchen the other night.  A fraking bat!  I was too busy freaking out and running away to take a picture, but it looked something like this:

But larger.  And with much bigger fangs.

So I did what any other grown woman in my situation would have done.  Screamed like a little girl, ran back to my room, and and slammed the door shut in case he was following me.  After my moment of panic I formulated my plan of attach.  Call for The Sleepy One's help.  He happened to be staying over for the night and surely I could appeal to his sense of masculine pride to protect us from the vicious demon-spawn camped out on the kitchen counter.  But alas, The Sleepy One was already asleep.  Go figure.  But so was The Olive One and The Yellow One wasn't home.

I was on my own.

What was I to do?  No way was I just going to let that thing fly around The Guv'nah all night, eating our clementines, pooping on our dinning room table, going through our DVDs. Action had to be taken.  So I grab my spare blanket, cover my head and neck, and slowly walk backing into the dinning room.  I turn on the light, ready to duck and cover, but the little bastard is no where to be seen. I slowly creep into the room and peak into the kitchen.  Still no sign.  I turn around and OMG IT'S HANGING FROM THE BASEMENT DOOR-FRAME!  

Before now, I never thought I'd be this afraid of bats.  That whole bit from Batman Begins where Bruce Wayne is all "I want a symbol that will strike fear in the hearts of my enemies" always gave me a laugh because of all the fearsome creatures you could pick, you chose a small, squeaky, flying rat.  Really?  But after seeing one up close and swooping around our kitchen, I have to give it up to Wayne.  Well done.

While I'm having my second freak-out, Batty is calming hanging upside down from the door-frame, plotting his revenge for those who have disturbed his sleep.  I step back into the kitchen, open up the backdoor in hopes of driving it out there, and start looking for weapons.  A girl has to defend herself.  Everything I see is either too sharp and pointy or will severely damage the walls.  My only viable option: a baking sheet.  Yes, I am a walking stereotype.

Pictured: My sword and armor.

After a few practice swings I slowly creep towards my new best friend.  My best hope is to smash it with the baking sheet, but realistically I know its not going to sit still long enough.  Sure enough I was right and it flies away before my blow lands.  The battle is on.

There I am, a grown woman with a blanket around my neck and shoulders, swinging a baking sheet around the dining room trying to get a bat to swoop out the back.  In my pajamas, no less.  But I figure that if saving the world in PJs is good enough for Arthur Dent and The Doctor, they're good enough to save The Guv'nah in.

The bat swoops around the dinning room a few times and then lands back in the kitchen.  One step closer.  I swat at it again and raise my baking sheet like a sad, sad little shield.  It swoops around the kitchen once, twice, thrice.  And then out the back door.  I rush forward, slam the door, and lock it for good measure.  

Way easier than I though it'd be.  Kind of anti-climatic really.  But hey, no trip to the hospital for a rabies shot.  So that's a plus.

So fly away, little bat, and tell all your disease-ridden batty friends that no bat is welcome in The Guv'nah.  Well, unless he looks like Christian Bale. 

1 comment:

  1. If nature has replaced the undergrads, then that would explain the mating ducks I've been seeing on my morning runs. Sure beats mating humans in College Green Park.

    -The Olive One