so first...the winner of the quilt is coming later today! you still have a little time to enter!! :)
but first...for your enjoyment...allow me to tell you a story.
so here is the scene:
So last night about 9:15pm I am sitting on my couch...laptop on my lap...chatting away to my friend Courtney in California. The TV is on but otherwise every light in the house is off. Doug and and the boys have been asleep since 7pm (Doug gets up at 2am).
So as I am sitting there chatting...in the dark...something swoops by my head. I immediately think "That was a pretty big moth". I get up and turn on the light to get a better look. Nothing. I see a large mosquito type bug on the wall nearby and think "Wow, that thing looked way bigger in the dark".
It swooped by again. It was not a moth.
I start to scream like a crazy woman into the phone "THERE'S A BAT IN MY HOUSE!!!!!".
Who knows how many times I screamed it.
Eventually, Courtney asks, in between my screams, if I need to go. To which I respond "YES I HAVE TO GO!!".
Hang up the phone. Paralyzed with fear. The scene now is of a 5ft 10in woman, in the fetal position, on the floor, screaming uncontrollably, trying to cover her entire body with a 14 by 14in pillow. My body must have been in autopilot because I could not move anything voluntarily. My body's instinct is to apparently protect my internal organs...hence the fetal position. All I could think was 1) I have 18in of hair that that swallow sized thing is aiming for and 2) how in the world am I going upstairs to where Doug was.
So I laid there. Frozen in fear. Screaming without the ability to stop. Somehow Doug heard me. And truly that is remarkable.
I asked him later what he thought was going on. He says he thought I was screaming about one of those huge jumping spiders that we sometimes find in the house. Then he said "What I came downstairs to was much worse than that".
So Doug is downstairs...trying to figure out what is going on. I scream "There is a Robin sized bat in the house"...and go back to my screaming/fetal position.
Doug repeatedly tells me to stop screaming before the neighbors hear me. I tell him that I have no control of it. And that was the truth.
As I am laying there...between screams...the blue Jay sized bat lands on the curtain. Body autopilot takes over and runs for the front door.
Now I know a few things with certainty. I know I love Jesus. I know I love Doug. I know I love my boys. I know I love chocolate.
I KNOW that if that 8in bat had even brushed against me...my body would have totally betrayed me. I can guarantee that I would have passed out cold. No question. I would have dropped like a fly.
I have never gotten that door open so fast and did not think twice about leaving Doug on his own. He is the man of the house...that is his job.
Doug says I screamed "He landed on the curtain!!!!!!" about eight or so times on my way out the door.
Doug had no idea what curtain I was talking about. I had no idea I was still screaming.
I am now outside...holding open the front door, because you know, that is essential to bat removal. Still paralyzed but at least hiding behind the door now.
I text my neighbor to come over and bring her husband.
They come. They both go in with courage. And run out two seconds later as the crow/bat swoops by them.
But they went back in. There are now three grown adults in my house. With dishtowels in hand. Swatting, windmill style at the roasting sized chicken bat as it swoops by them. By this time you can see its talons glinting in the light.
Just think National Lampoons Christmas vacation (but rooster bat and not squirrel) and that episode of The Office where a bat gets in...and combine them together.
It was that comical.
Eventually the turkey vulture bat flew out. I am sure it was because he was terrified of the windmill people.
We duct taped the fireplace closed until we could look at it in the daylight, cause we figure that is how he got in. And I was up until the weeeeee hours of the morning because 1) I couldn't stop laughing about it and 2) I kept hallucinating Batman in the dark.
The lesson I took away from this was:
It's a good thing we have a safe word in our house.
When Doug worked overnight, I literally slept with a Louisville slugger next to the bed. Doug would get home in the super wee hours of the morning and when he was coming up the stairs he would whisper our safe word so I wouldn't come barreling at him with a bat.
Because of the Batzilla incident I now know one of two things would happen to an intruder. 1)Ultimate body betrayal where I cower in fear until I pass out OR 2) I go crazy kung-fu autopilot.
Thankfully, because of the safe word, we won't have to see if either of these happens without due cause.