Last night was not a typical night. Oh no, yet it was also not a completely unique one.
Allow me to preface this with the fact that back in July 2010 we came home from a lovely evening out to learn that a bat had snuck into our home through the attic door (old houses come with fun features like this.) It took the better part of the late evening for Adam to get the creature out, in the meantime our puppy Maya had escaped through the front door into the road and Stella the cat was weighing her options of escaping through our second-story bedroom window. Fast forward this to 3.5 years later and now cue our evening.
I came home with Henry around 6pm and ran upstairs to change before kitchen duty began. As I finished changing I realized that two hangers across the room were moving, funny I didn’t recall bumping into those. I definitely heard the flapping that came next. I ran out of the room and left the light on while I shut the door. “Oh God, another bat.” I did the light switch flicker test and nothing seemed amiss.
Dinner went on without a hitch, but while the mini man and I played in the living room I could swear I heard noises upstairs. Determined to verify that it was a “something” versus me just being crazy, I opened the door with caution, picked up a discarded pillowcase from our hamper, balled it up and threw it right at the rolling closet where Adam’s clothes hang. From behind a pant leg, a brown winged creature came out and flew right for the door, where my head was.
“Mama are you okay?”
“Yes Henry, Mamma was just spooked. I think we have a bat in the bedroom.”
Henry then went on to chant “bat in the bedroom.” which seems like an entirely appropriate thing to do. Meanwhile, I called Adam to let him know that once he got home from working late, he would extract the hideous creature. He protested that he too didn’t like bats, I reminded him that he’s a guy and that’s why he gets the honors. (I don’t mind getting all gender specific when it helps me get out of something horrible like bat removal.)
I plugged the space underneath our door with a rolled up towel, while I listened to the winged menace hitting my mirror, hitting our rolling closet rack and chirping. Stella, our useless cat, finally came out of the guest room to paw at the towel. “Useless beast, why didn’t you hunt it down. And why are you hunting the towel now?!”
From 8pm – 10:30pm I tried to put Henry down while waiting for my bat extractor. He refused to sleep. Laying him in bed was like laying him across hot coals. Each time starting over the process. Poor kid had a random day of croup this week and is now harboring a nasty cold he keeps sneezing into our faces. Then thanking us when we “bless” him. At least he is polite in his germ spreading.
Let’s jump to 9:45pm, Adam is home, he is now armed with a ski mask, a sweat shirt, a trash can, a window screen and an empty roll of wrapping paper. He’s going in.
Two minutes later he comes out to report that the bat is really a bird that somehow traveled into our attic under our attic door and has now made the rolling closet its home.
Through a combination of smoke and mirrors. Okay through a combo of mirrors Adam tried to navigate the poor creature into the night sky through our open bedroom window. One mirror guided it to the window meanwhile my decorative Indonesian one was wedged in the open window frame to help guide it out. I image this worked like when they are marshaling aircraft.
Eventually he experienced success. And since he is on the super spouse track this week he volunteered to take on a sleepless Henry and try to get him off to bed. Second bout of success, had the boy asleep by 10:45pm.
But Mother Nature is rarely done with us… cue 3am and Henry’s screaming. Stuffed up, refusing to listen to the cause and effect of, “more crying = more snot which = a more stuffed-up nose. Since I need to work late tonight he took on the night shift and proceeded to hang out with the mini man for 3 solid hours.
Henry work up this morning chipper, having explained that he watched all of Charlie and Lola and a Daniel Tiger on Dada’s phone. Then I noticed he had different jammie pants on, and realized that there was a dinner-plate-sized stain on our couch.