Let’s Play a Game

It’s called, “Get a Clue”. Why are we playing? Well, it’s been A Day.  You know, one of those Extraordinary Days where you aren’t sure what exactly happened in the last 24 hours? You are, however, painfully aware that you are sitting on the tail end of that time frame with a headache the size of Montana and a patience wire all sorts of fritzed out.  Let’s play.

 

It all started with a visit from long distance best friends and their children last night.  We were in full-on entertaining mode and the children were in full-on We Are So Gonna Be A Mess Tomorrow mode.  I should have known.  Clue #1.  My sinuses had been acting up all day. It was darn near difficult to breathe and downright impossible to enjoy a glass of wine. Clue #2.

 

This morning, we were almost late to the bus.  We weren’t, mind you.  But when a child insists on riding the bus and only the bus,  almost is near catastrophe. Upon arriving at the bus stop, we realized that “we” left our water bottle behind.  Dear John!  Clue #3

 

The thermometer screamed at me. It was official; I had to miss Bible Study.  I detest few things.  I detest having to miss my time with my girls and my Bible every Thursday morning.  Clue #4

 

Sinuses being completely on strike, I thought I’d rustle up some homemade soup around lunchtime.  Or Progresso. Whichever was easiest.  I voted for Progresso. As I was the only one voting, I won! (Best election E.V.E.R.!)  And, I found one solitary can left in the pantry.  I was ecstatic! Until I chanced to look at the bottom of the can and find this:

 

Worrisome.

 

You see, this date was sketchy, even to my standards.  Oh, yes indeedy, I do have standards, people.  But they are slightly higher than this.  And that’s probably because I distinctly remember buying this can of soup about, oh, say… a year ago.  And it worried me a tad that something that can sit on a shelf for a sweet forever might be so very near its expiration date. No?  Clue #5

 

Sweetboy informed me that he is “6% nocturnal. Sometimes, maybe 8%.”  I was not aware. This could be because we had an odd run-in with a bat when he was an infant.  Or, it could just be that he is odd.  We love him all the more because of it. This revelation came after he spent the better part of an hour filled with tantrums  about having “comprehension”.  Which, we English also refer to as “constipation”.  Just to be clear.  Clue #6

 

So, just to sum up, if we take clues one through six and apply systematic Mom Analysis… I believe I won!

 

I should have stayed in bed.  Indeed!

Going Batty

BAT!

Literally.  We were, according to Sweetboy’s third grade teaching team, supposed to do a “practice count”, over the weekend, of how many bats came through a particular area of vision for 5 minutes.  I’m sorry.  What’s that now???  As if that’s not bad enough, they also encouraged us to do so at dusk, which is prime “bat viewing time”.  Dusk, you know, that time of evening whereby the children are mercifully headed for bed and the parentals finally get to bust into their own fermented apple juice? Yeah. That time.

Dusk, as Sweetboy informed me, “is at approximately 7:30 p.m.”.

Allrightythen.

What, pray tell, is the goal of this information collection?  To provide valuable information on the health of the bat population. Let’s get something straight right now. We are no strangers to bats.  Sadly, we are not.  And I can tell you that a bat’s health hangs in the balance if it intends to come anywhere near me and mine. Allow me to elaborate with two tragically true stories.

Story 1 goes a little something like this:

Mama has first child.  It’s a sweet boy.  Mama, Daddy, newly birthed Sweetboy, and mama’s parents (who have flown all the way from Florida) head home from hospital interlude.  On first night at home with new baby snuggled at mama’s side, mama hears strange noise in room.  Mama turns on lamp.  Lamp illuminates a visitor of the flying variety in our bedroom.  Flying around.  With wings.  Not a bird.  Mama pees post-birth diaper.  Baby screams.  Mama shrieks for Daddy.  Daddy and Capt. Ahab do some flying of their own up the stairs to see what’s amiss.  They find Mama outside bedroom door, hyperventilating, still with wet drawers, unable to go back in to retrieve clean drawers.  The menfolk shoo the mama down to The Nana’s bed to tend to the flying intruder. The Mama must borrow Nana’s unders. The term ‘granny pants’ takes on new meaning to the Mama. The men trap intruder by stunning it with a broom and scooping it into a Tupperware bowl.  They release it outside.  They calmly announce that it was a bat.  The mama faints.  (No, no – that last bit didn’t happen.  It would have been a fitting end, though, no?)
Story 2 goes a little something like this:

Mama has second child.  It’s a sweet girl.  Mama, Daddy, newly birthed Sweetgirl, Sweetboy and mama’s parents (who have flown all the way from Florida) head home from hospital interlude.  On first night at home with new baby snuggled at mama’s side, mama hears strange noise in room.  Mama turns on lamp.  Lamp illuminates a visitor of the flying variety in our bedroom.  Flying around.  With wings.  Not a bird.  Mama pees post-birth diaper.  Baby screams.  Mama shrieks for Daddy.  Daddy and Capt. Ahab do some flying of their own up the stairs to see what’s amiss.  They find Mama outside bedroom door, hyperventilating, still with wet drawers, unable to go back in to retrieve clean drawers.  The menfolk shoo the mama down to The Nana’s bed to tend to the flying intruder.  The Nana knows the drill.  The Mama more readily accepts the granny pants. This time, the men trap intruder by sucking it up with a shop vac. Wastes less time trying to chase it around, you see.  They release it outside.  They calmly announce that it was another bat.
I kid. You. Not!  Two almost identical experiences at identical times, 4 years apart.  What are the odds?  You’d go batty trying to figure it out, too!  And now?  Now, we’re supposed to actively look for them? Outside?  I think not.  Instead, why don’t I just have another baby, bring it home, and wait? That would be a surer bet.  Indeed!

What bat-crazy animal antics have you encountered?