Ever since we got Honey last December, Minny has quit sleeping in our room, for the most part, and sleeps in the living room instead. She has her big blue chair that looks out over the backyard, and she can check on the outside world with barely a lift of her head. The bad part about her switch in slumber spots is that she often wakes me up in the middle of the night because she has seen something outside that she needs to investigate. This makes for some long nights and short sleeps.
Last night, Minny came to wake me up, quietly whining for my attention, her tail whomp-whomping against every piece of furniture in our room. I sighed, hauled myself out of bed, and watched both dogs tumble down the outside stairs in search of a squirrel or a blowing leaf. When it's warm out, I usually sit on our screened-in porch to wait for them, often falling asleep on the daybed. Now that it's colder, I wait in the living room for them to decide they're ready to come in. As I was sitting in the dark living room last night, I heard a funny noise. It was a quiet "flump" happening every 10 seconds or so. I figured it was just the ceiling fan, but when I glanced up, I realized the fan wasn't even on. Odd. I looked up again and saw a shadow that appeared to be flying around the ceiling. When I saw it again, I finally saw that it was a bat. In my living room. Flying around. Probably ready to attack me.
To be honest, I had a fleeting moment of "I can just pretend I didn't see it and deal with it in the morning," but I knew that was a bad, bad idea. I ducked, ran into the bedroom, and breathlessly stood at my side of the bed. I very gently said Trevor's name once, twice, thrice...and he slept on. I said it for a fourth time, figuring if that didn't work, I would have to try something else. The fourth time was the charm. Trevor woke up, but it wasn't a placid fluttering of the eyes into wakefulness: he sat halfway up in bed and screamed. My heart rate ratcheted up yet again that night, and I shushed him and waited for him to calm down. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "I think there's a bat in the house."
A moment passes.
Trevor: "What makes you think that?"
Me: "I just saw a bat. In the house."
A moment passes.
Trevor: "Do you want me to get up and help you with it?"
Me: "Um, yes, Yes, I do."
After a few moments, Trevor stumbled out of bed and joined me in the living room. "Yep," he said. "That's a bat." Glad we got that out of the way.
Meanwhile, the dogs are whining to come inside. I let them onto the porch but not into the house while Trevor went upstairs to shut the kids' bedroom doors. He whisper-yelled to me that the bat was on the catwalk, still and quiet. I ducked again, ran into the office, and grabbed the trash can. I dumped the trash all over the floor and told Trevor to try to get the bat into the can so we could let it outside. No dice. It wouldn't settle down enough for him to catch it, so we needed a plan B. I frantically googled and read that people recommended to open a window or door. So once again, I ducked, because my brain told me that ducking would ensure that the bat didn't come near me, and I skittered to the front door. I opened the storm door and the inside door, and then I went back onto the porch to hide with the dogs. Within sixty seconds, the bat had found its way outside.
Trevor whisper-screamed, "It's out! It's out! Shut the door!"
I whisper-shrieked, "I'm trying! I'm trying!"
The inside door shut with a bang, and the great bat escapade was over. Lottie sleepily emerged from her room to find out what was happening, and then she came downstairs to give me a hug. I must have looked stricken or freaked or something. A bat is basically a mouse with wings, and mice are my Kryptonite, big time. We all made our way back to our respective beds, but it took awhile for Trevor and I to calm down enough to get back to sleep. Dallas, by the way, slept through the entire thing. Lucky kid.
The moral of the story, to me, at least, is that it isn't fun to wake Trevor up in the night. Trevor's moral is probably don't wake him up in the night for any reason. The bat's moral is not to get trapped inside a house with a couple who screams or whisper-screams. Nothing like some fun on a Monday night to get the blood pumping.
