My Life is Completely Batty

Merriam-Webster defines batty as “mentally unstable” or “crazy.”   And while that would be a perfectly accurate description of my life as of late, batty is also accurate in a literal sense.

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I was at home Wednesday recovering from a very minor outpatient procedure.  And since I couldn’t really do any heavy lifting or cleaning, I decided that I could at least do a little straightening up in the dining room as that seems to be my family’s ideal drop off location when they come in the house.  So anyway, I walked around the corner and saw something dark up near the ceiling out of the corner of my eye.  I thought it might be a huge moth or maybe some kind of debris from our ongoing bathroom construction.  As I got up closer to it, I thought it might be a mouse that had somehow crawled up the wall (so retarded I know, but I was still a little dopey from the general anesthesia).  Well, when I finally figured out what it was I ran screaming to the kitchen, “Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit!”

Then I walked around through the living room and saw kitty sitting on the steps (and remembered that she had been acting strange all morning).  And then sarcastically said to her, “Can you not do something about this??”

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Now just to set the record straight, I am down with pretty much all of God’s critters (well except spiders.  and mosquitoes.  oh and cockroaches.)  And as I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve become quite fond of our fine feathered friends.  And I’m actually fine with bats in general…outside.  I love watching them come out at dusk and they eat tons of mosquitoes.  I am, however, SO not OK with a bat in my house!

So I went upstairs and hid in our bedroom.  I stayed up there for about 15 minutes feeling ridiculously foolish, knowing that I couldn’t stay up there all day.  So I did what any self-respecting woosie would do – I called my husband.  I shamelessly played my “still recovering from anesthesia” card and begged him to come home and handle it.  Which he valiantly did.

So here’s how you get rid of a bat in your house. 

#1 – grab the pool net from outside.

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#2 – take a picture for your woosie wife who’s too scared to get up close and take one herself.  Look – you can even see it’s little feet hanging onto the picture rail!!!!  OMG!!! Just looking at this picture makes me want to barf.

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#3 – place the pool net over the bat on the wall.

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#6 – use a placemat from the kitchen table to transport it outside while your wife is freaking out in the living room because the bat is squealing and screeching!! (oh and if you could ignore my disgusting floor that would be great).

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#7 – vigorously shake the net to dislodge the rat-I mean bat from the net even though he is holding on to the net for dear life.

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#8 – take another close up picture for your woosy wife who is screaming from the front door, “Did you get it?  Don’t kill, but did you get it??”

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I can’t even look at this picture while I type.

So after that crisis was over, I made my knight in shining armor a ham sandwich for his effort and let him have the last brownie as a well-deserved token of my appreciation.

And then I made him walk through the house to make sure that all the fireplace flues were shut and there was no possible place for any critter of any sort to find it’s way into my house.

I think I prefer crazy to batty.

Peace, Kelly

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About Minding My Nest

wife, mom, not-so-empty nester.
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