Bat Outta Hell

A rather restful week was spent at the cottage. The kids played nearly the whole time at the sandy beach where Lake Huron was so clear and blue. Our beach had a large sandbar, so it was nice and shallow and warm.

Yesterday night, I was watching the news seeing hysterical Lebanese mothers mourning their children. "How do these women do it?" I wondered. "How can they find oxygen while they see their lifeless child?"

I looked down at Baby Boy, who couldn't sleep and was playing with his Hot Wheels in the dining room.

And there was a bat flying over his head.

At first I thought it was a silhouette from the window but...nope. So, I called Husband as calmly as I could. No rustling from the attic where he was playing Urban Dead.

Frick it. "There's a bat in the dining room!" Okay, that got him down the stairs but it freaked out Baby Boy.

We ended up opening a door and shooing it out. The whole thing took maybe three minutes.

"You were graceful and calm," Husband told me. "I was freaked because I wasn't wearing a shirt."

Daughter came down. "I heard Mum yell. Is everything okay?"

"Sure, honey. We just had one of those Ontario Little Brown bats, but he went back outside," I said.

"You sure it was a Little Brown?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thankfully, you did that project on bats so we know their not going to kill you. And they don't bite people; just bugs, so it was no big deal to me and Dad."

"Uh, Mensa applicant. Bats bite people. Remember our neighbours at the old house needed tetanus shots?" Husband reminded me.

Ignorance is bliss.