Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I Blame My Husband

I've mentioned Larry and David are off camping in the wilds of New Mexico, right? So I've been flying solo here and doing a pretty darn good job of it, if I do say so myself.  True, we didn't have Internet all of Monday until I figured out how to fix it (I restarted something-or-other, sort of the modern equivalent of banging on the TV set to make all the lines disappear); and the children haven't exactly been eating healthy.  But we're managing.  And last night, even though there was a late bedtime and then I wasted an hour trying to dig through the crap piled 3 feet high (no joke) on David's desk, I remained responsible enough to head downstairs to the kitchen at 10:30 to do the dinner dishes.  Yes, no goofing off here!

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw something black fly through the living room.   Oh, I thought, there's a bird in the house. 

A black bird...

At night....

This was the only bat picture I could stand.
And here, dear reader, is where I screamed, made an about-face, and ran out the front door.

Only it wasn't that smooth.  Because the screen door was latched.  So I continued emitting screams as I struggled with the latch and THEN I ran out the front door.

In retrospect?  I should have run up the stairs and shut the doors to the kids' bedrooms in order to protect them from what I assumed was an angry, rabid bat that could fly upstairs at any minute.  But no - I saved my own skin.  I'm not proud of that.

Running for help (feeling very much like I was starring in my own horror movie), I banged on a neighbor's door and - luckily - a zombie didn't answer.  My neighbor came over and chased the bat out of the house.  Because - did I mention? - LARRY WASN'T HOME.  He left his 3 youngest kids with a woman who apparently does not possess enough maternal instinct to save her children before herself.  How neglectful IS he, anyway?

[Yesterday's gift card giveaway is still open, if you care to participate!]

[mom image: Lay Out Locator]


  1. I thought the entire body of this blog post was going to be "for everything". But I guess that's just me projecting my marital woes onto you.

  2. And New Mexico being the Land of Enchantment??? NONONONO. Unless they're referring to the evil kind of enchantment like the kind a wicked witch does to make flying monkeys and poisoned apples.

  3. You know how, when you are on the plane they tell you to put on *your own* oxygen mask first, so you can help your kids? That.

  4. I'm glad a zombie didn't answer the door of your neighbour's home, but did you check to make sure it wasn't a werewolf in it's human phase?

  5. Just begs me to comment something along the lines of batshit crazy.

  6. One cannot control one's reaction to a bat. I've been there.

    Are they in Philmont? One of the best experiences of my son's life!

  7. So funny. Sounds like something I would do too. How the heck did a bat get in your house????

  8. My MIL is equally terrified about bats. Really, all you have to do is let them flutter to the ground where they're harmless and then scoop them back outside to a high surface. Think of the BUGS they eat. That's how I rationalize bats.

  9. Sheesh, I just came off like such a preachy know-it-all. You were ALONE! No Larry! Defending your hearth and home!

  10. I left two comments yesterday! What happened? Did I not press that final "publish" button?

  11. Okay, I must admit I laughed.

    It reminds me of the time I came home from college and my mom was out somewhere. My younger sister said, "There's a bat in the house. Dad doesn't believe me. He says it's just a large moth." And then she stomped off to her room in a dudgeon.

    I said, "Hrm. That's interesting." And did the usual returning from school stuff, putting in laundry etc. And then went to the living room and sat down. Just then, the bat flapped through the living room. I was charmed (I thought it was cute), and said, "Hey, Dad, there's Kate's bat."

    My dad didn't look up from his newspaper. "She's imagining things. It's a moth."

    "No, really," I insisted, as the bat (which was apparently circumnavigating the house) flapped through the living room, "there, look!"

    My dad finally looked up, and said (with apparent surprise, "It's a bat."

    At which point I laughed so hard I fell off the couch, and my father (correctly anticipating my that my mother would think getting rid of the bat was his job) chased it out.

    My sister was pleased to be vindicated, but not willing to forgive him for not believing her.

  12. Had you stopped to close their doors, you would have wasted valuable bat-hiding time. They're quite wily, you know.

    My brother kept a voicemail of me for years that sounded something like: "johnineedyoutocomeoverhererightawaythere'sabat!! Arrrghhhhhhhhhhh!!"

  13. You poor thing! I was going to say the same thing as Lynn to comfort you for abandoning your children and all.

  14. "In the event of a sudden cabin decompression... put on your oxygen mask first, then assist your children." See? You did do the right thing!

  15. Now I have to explain to my husband, who is thankfully not in New Mexico, why I'm laughing so hard. (Hey, did you know there's a huge bat colony at the mouth of Carlsbad Caverns there? It made it into my book that a baby one landed in some woman's beehive hairdo back in 1969 around the time we were tourists there.)

    I cannot begin to fathom having one in the house. But I sure laughed reading all this.

  16. In NC, you must catch the bat and have the health dept. test it for rabies, and if it is positive you must all get the shots. If you don't catch it, you must all get the shots in case the bat that you let espcape did have rabies. Apparently you can be bitten while sleeping and not know you were bitten!
    How do I know this you ask. It has happened to me this month as well as last year, and to several of my neighbors. Also, those rabies shots apparently cost like 5K per person!

  17. A BAT?! So much better than a bird.

  18. I know I'm late but I had a similar experience where I ran away from a stining insect leaving my two small children to fight for themselves; I definitely had a moment of, "I just have to run faster than these toddlers," before I consciously reminded myself that I was the mother and I was supposed to the the warrior and defender of my children. Happily they didn't get stung but it was a reminder of how far I have to go in the mothering department.