Our house doesn’t make us feel like we’ve gone as far back in time as our other house, but our coffee maker does. We no longer have a broken coffee pot but the traditional Tico coffee pot; a cotton sock with a wire at the top that rests on a stand. You put your coffee grinds in the bottom of the sock, boil water, and dump it in the sock with your cup sitting underneath it. It’s like the Keurig of 1892. While we were spending a peaceful, relaxing morning reading our new books and sipping our café con leche, I caught a glimpse of blackness in the corner of the ceiling hanging from one of the wooden rafters.
Me: Mike, what’s that?
Mike: (Hesitating to tell me what I already know.) That…looks like a bat.
Me: (Laughter. Not the this-is-funny kind. More like the I’m-gonna-flip-out-soon kind.)
Mike: (Walking upstairs.) Guess I’ll get the camera…
Mike chose to not piss off the bat by waking him from his peaceful slumber and let him stay hanging 10 feet from our heads for a few hours (well it only stayed that close to my head for a few minutes, I moved to the other side of the room very quickly after acknowledging it’s presence). I personally thought the element of surprise would have made it easier to guide the bat to the door but it didn’t matter, I most certainly wasn’t going to be the one doing it…nor would I be in the same room or floor for that matter. I had images of Tommy Boy’s Chris Farley and David Spade running into each other and could clearly see the bat nesting in my hair while Mike threw a blanket over my head to catch it. I contemplated leaving the house for this one.
He finally decided it was time and equipped himself with a hat, a broom and an umbrella. I requested that he video tape the event since I wasn’t going to be able to watch it. Plus, I was hoping for some good footage for my favorite TV show, America’s Funniest Home Videos. I locked myself in a bedroom upstairs with all the other doors shut so it would be contained in the event it decided to fly around.
Mike and I communicated by yelling at each other through the wood floors so he could keep me posted on the evacuation. “I’m touching it.” “It’s not moving.” “I think it’s scared.” “It’s moving a little.” “It just backed up.” “Now it’s in the corner.” I had cracked the door to hear him better until I heard “he’s flying” followed by, “it’s on my flip flop.” I came out of hiding only when the flip flop was relocated to the outside of the house and I could safety look at the little guy through the window. He wasn’t so terrible looking – just a tiny black mouse with webbed wings. He stayed on Mike’s sandal for a while, scared while posing for his photo shoot. I don’t know if he didn’t like paparazzi or didn’t like being relocated, but he decided to give Mike a piece of his mind and peed on his flip flop before flying off.
At least at our other house, Raid did a good job at taking care of most of our creatures, with the exception of the crabs (although that may have worked it probably would’ve been really mean and resulted in angry blind crabs seeking vengeance). There’s no canned weapon we’ve found that gets rid of frogs and bats.
So I guess my worries about a boring blog were unnecessary. Really though, I don’t need the creatures to give me material…I’d rather do it on my own, but I send my thanks to them all (and I’m sure you do too) for stopping by.
No comments:
Post a Comment