Bats

When Bruce and I had been married a little over 2 years, we bought a house. It was a big older wood frame house on a hill. It had a lot of problems, but that will be covered in another blog. This time I want to talk about bats. Not the kind that you swing, either.
One evening Bruce and I were up late in the house. I don't remember what we were doing, but I do remember that something flew into our front room, zoomed around the room then zoomed into the parlor. Freak out time! Bruce grabbed a broom and tried to knock the little bat down so we could get it out of the house.
Those little bats (probably big ones, too) are incredible at dodging. Bruce didn't connect with one swat. However, he could chase the bat with the broom and kind of corral it. He cornered the bat in the bathroom.
"Honey! Come in here!"
I hated that thought! I was quite comfortable cowering out of the way.
"Why?"
"I need your help to get rid of the bat."
This was being yelled with a closed door between us.
"What?!?"
"Get in here!" He bellowed.
I opened the door a crack and slid into the huge bathroom.
"When I chase the bat toward the window, open it then let it close when the bat flies through so it can't get back in."
O.k. So I get to stand next to a window and meekly wait while my crazy husband ran around this room swinging a broom at a rabid bat (I don't know abut the 'rabid' part, but that's how I felt at the time.). Yeah. Right.
"No!"
"It's the only way to get it out. You have to."
"What if I swing the broom and you get to stand next to the only escape the bat has?"
"Ready?"
Like eternity could ready me for a flying bat being chased my way.
BUT, I did it. The window wouldn't stay open on it's own, it would quickly slide down and slam shut - therefore I had to stand there and hold it open.
If I remember right it took about 6 hours to get the bat out the window - no, it was probably a heart-pounding half an hour.
This was the first time a bat got in. I only remember twice in that old house, but it was not fun.