Last night, as I laid in bed, I could here something in the hall. We're talking maybe 3 a.m. Florence, the little Siamese kitty, was leaping at something and then landing with a thump.
Leap, land, thump.
Leap, land, thump.
Leap, land, thump, screech, squeal ?#@!
Crap, perhaps she caught a mouse, and I knew I should investigate before she proudly brought it into the bed (this has never happened to me, a mouse in the bed, but it did happen to my sister!). I turned on the bathroom light and started walking towards the hallway....and swoosh...something flew at my head. I ran into the bathroom and closed the door. I cracked the door open and yelled -
me: Joe, there is something flying around the bedroom.
Joe: It's nothing honey, go back to bed.
me: Joe it's a huge moth or a bat, you're gonna have to address this.
Joe: Go back to bed, it's only a mo... oh f#@k it's a bat.
Let me pause here and inform you that for some reason my husband jumped out of bed fully clothed in khaki shorts and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up - like a hot Indiana Jones ready to hunt bats at 3 am.
The bat was in heaven flying around my vaulted ceiling, weaving through the chandelier, dive bombing Joe. He caught it in a sheet after a few passes, and threw it out the window.
We got in bed and he cuddled up to me with his khaki shorts.
me: Why are you fully dressed?
Joe: I'm always ready for an expedition babe.
True Story.
The bat hunter.
Ha, Ha, yeah we've had that happened on more than one occasion at the old house. Wait till you run into snakes in the basement, yuck.
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