Bats and butterflies

So, some of you may know I have this extraordinary fear of butterflies. I know, wierd.

My fear of butterflies comes from the fact that they fly so randomly. I don't know. Something about them just makes me run and duck for cover when they get within a few feet of me.

So this fear of random flying things is really not condusive to life in an old house. Why? Because since we have moved into this house we have had a slight bat problem. Bats......... big furry butterflies. It's enough to send me to therapy. For the rest of my life. Possibly longer.

Last spring my daughters awoke to inform me that there was a bat in their room. I felt my stomach tense and the terror set in. What I really wanted to do was leave the house never to return. To make matters worse, I was unknown just how long the bat had been IN their room. Did it bite them in their sleep? Could they now be infected with rabies or some other deadly bat virus?

So we call the Health Department who insists that since they children could have been in contact with the bat while they slept (shudder) we needed to capture the bat, kill it, and bring it to them for a bat autopsy. GREAT. Better yet, we couldn't just whack the bat with a baseball bat (after all, that's why the 2 have the same name, no?) We had to catch it and DROWN IT. Apparently a bat with a smashed skull (shudder again) cannot be tested for rabies.

So, being the paranoid-bat-phobic queen of the castle I am, I nominated my brave husband for this task. Much to his chagrin.

But, since he is the ever so strong male figure in this castle he obliged and set out to capture the furry flying butterfly clinging to the mint green window frame in my girls' bedroom.

Unfortunately, the bat wasn't as on board with the whole "capture and drown" idea as the lady at the health department was. Apparently his other bat friends sent him a memo as to our plans and he put up a horrendous fight for his life and liberty. The bat bared it's teeth, screeched, flapped it's wings and threatened to take the life of any soul who dared come after him. Of course I, being the queen of the castle, didn't go anywhere near this entire charade, rather sat curled up with a blanket ready to throw it over my head and dive under the nearest peice of furniture if it dared to fly downstairs. But every now and then my king would return from his tower and inform me that the bat negotiations were not going well.

Roughly 3 hours later my hero succeeded in his mission and emerged from the second floor with the bat secured in a coffee can. His work, however was only half done. He now had to murder to creature in cold blood.

We were informed by the lovely lady at the Health Department that bats can't swim, so simply filling the can with water would complete our mission. Craig obliged and put the can on the counter........

Something is DYING in my HOUSE. It was about all I could stand. I made him put it outside.
An hour later he drove it to the Health Department and thankfully, it was not rabid. WHEW.

Fast forward.

When we remodeled our basement we figured this would be the last of our bat problem. The walls and ceilings could surely take care of this problem. Right? Well, yes and no my friends.

Last night, I was aroused from my sound slumber (or lack thereof) to a strange sound above my head. tink-tink-tink-tink. What the SCHMECKLE is that? OMG there's a BAT in the ceiling of my bedroom. Double OMG Craig has the one ceiling tile off kilter to allow heat to get to the pipe that keeps freezing up. I look over at my darling king, sleeping comfortably while the evil crept above our heads. I listened as the tink-tink-tinking moved closer and closer and closer to the skewed tile.........

OMG this thing is going to get out and go flying across the room and I'm going to be stuck here with this thing flying around my head, possibly LANDING ON ME and I might just die of a heart attack if that happens and........

Then it stopped......... no more tink-tink-tinking. Silence. I didn't sleep the rest of the night certain that the bat didn't leave, it was waiting for me to fall alseep so it could come an cause me an early death by panic. Laying on my back, eyes bugged out, blanket to my chin jumping at every noise. I was in my very own horror movie except the maniac wasn't some axe yielding psychopath it was a fat fuzzy butterfly..........

Tha bat guy is coming at 2.