Going Batty

Last night, Brian and the kids were upstairs getting ready for bed when I heard the all too familiar shriek. It was not from one of the kids... it was from Brian. The shriek that
announced "a visitor has arrived".

Yup, another stinking bat got into the house. Did you notice the word "another", as in"this is not the first one"? Bats, in this old house, occasionally make an appearance. We were initiated with the first one before we had the kids. Brian, the environmentalist / lover of nature, screamed like a little girl on a major sugar high. I, on the other hand, remained clam and removed the bat from the house using a shoebox. Actually, Brian did eventually calm down stopped freaking out and helped me.

The second bat was huge... it had a wing span of a pterodactyl! It swooped at us with speed unknown to most bats. We hit the floor in a fast army crawl, grabbed a golf umbrella for protection and crawled through the house and opened every door and window.

The third home intruder found it's way into our bedroom after William was born. Brian freed it by, once again, opening the doors and windows. By this time, I was starting to feel unkind lethal towards the critters and was in search of a more permanent way of removal.

We have also had several bats in the basement. There is nothing worse than folding laundry and seeing a moving object out of the corner of your eye. Brian also has had a few bats taunt him while he was in the basement. One dive bombed him resulting in "the scream". Another was found at the bottom of a laundry basket.

I am sure that there have been more, but I've tried to erase the memories.

Why don't we get rid of the bats, you ask? It's not that easy. We've priced it out. It cost and arm and a leg (or a wing) and there is no guarantee that they will all be removed or that they won't eventually return. Looks like a bat house might make a nice addition to our family!