Happy Birthday to me, Happy Memorial Day.
We woke up to a BAT, yes a flying winged rodent in our home.
Jason and Lily came downstairs to see a bird, no a bat flying in the house.
It promptly flew up the stairs into Jude's room and we closed the door.
Jason gloves and takes a broom into the room. He takes the screens off the window and the bat takes a death grip on the door frame. Jason hits the bat with the broom and it growls at him and shows it's fangs. This is where Jason decides it sucks to be the Dad. By default he gets this job.
I am NOT fighting a winged rodent. NO WAY.
So finally Jason hits it again, it falls to the floor and it continues to do it's "growl". Jason throws a beach towel over it and throws it out the window.
Off flies the bat... safe and sound.
That was our morning.
Poor Jason.
Monday, May 28, 2007
It's a bird, it's a plane, no it's A BAT
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11 comments:
Hehehe...the similarities between this and the first time we found a mouse in our apartment in NYC are unbelievable.
So you did the killing of the mouse and Tim stood shreiking on the table top?
: )
Ewww, ewww, ewww! Aren't you glad you're a woman, Amie?!?!
YES I AM!!!!
Well, you know our bat story right? Oh if only Keith could have been there :)
Oh and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
I don't know your bat story.. do tell.
Sometimes it sucks to be the man. Ask Marty... we are renovating and there is a ton of "man" work to be done. It is hard for me to hang out and watch the kids while he does his "man" work, but somehow, I manage....
Keith was up in our attic and was looking for a lost camera. He started rooting around in a bag that had some Halloween stuff that I had purchased on clearance and pulled out what he thought was a stuffed bat and was getting ready to toss it aside when it turned its head and looked at him! He was HOLDING it in his hand. Ugh.
I wish you had recorded the bat growl. That would have made a great cell phone ringtone.
hehe...actually, the first time a mouse was found Tim and Angel called me freaking out while I was working a late concert.
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