This is a guest post from my good friend Lisa over at The Big Sheep Blog.
Steve, thank you for graciously agreeing to post this on your blog. At the end, I’ll explain to your fine readers why I felt it was best not to post it on my own blog. Lisa
If you have teenagers, then you already know that cleaning their bathroom can be a disgusting frightening experience. Usually, I’m pretty courageous and just go in there and get it done.
However, if you heard a shriek yesterday morning at around 9:20, that was me. It started out as a routine exercise in blasting the grossness with a variety of powerful cleansers and disinfectants. Then I opened the cabinet under the sink to put away the assortment of products designed to make teenage boys not smell like teenage boys. I peeked in to find some room and saw something on the shelf that looked like maybe a black crumpled up bandana. I reached in to pick it up. It was soft. It was furry. It moved.
That’s when I shrieked and simultaneously slammed the cabinet door shut. I bolted out of the bathroom and down the stairs to find my husband, who was working from home and in the middle of a conference call. “THERE’S A BAT! A BAT! A BAT!”
After ascertaining that I was not in immediate mortal danger, he calmly finished his call and sauntered upstairs about 15 minutes later. Armed with a bath towel and a plastic container, he caught the bat. “Wow, that’s a pretty good sized bat,” he commented, observing the critter in the container. “I wonder how he got in there?”
“Get it out, get it out, get it out,” I pleaded. (I don’t normally repeat everything 3 times, but once or twice seemed insufficient for the gravity of the situation.)
After the crisis was averted, I couldn’t help myself – I googled the implications of finding a random bat in your house. Apparently, 90 percent of the time, a random bat in the house is an indication that there is a colony of bats in your attic. Oh crap. After sharing this finding with my husband, I requested he commence an inspection, which is not as easy as it sounds because we don’t have a full attic, only a series of crawl spaces accessible from various places in my kids’ rooms.
It was critical to complete the mission before my 14 year old daughter returned home from school because if she had any idea there had been a bat in her bathroom, she would never set foot in the bathroom or the house ever again. In fact, we’d probably have to burn the place down and relocate to another galaxy, preferably a bat-free galaxy. And that is why I thought it was prudent to tell this story here, rather than on my own blog. Besides, I know that Brown Road Chronicles is very critter-friendly.
On a positive note, I’m thankful the bat didn’t bite me, I didn’t fall down the stairs or have a heart attack, and that my husband was home. I’m most thankful, though, that it was not my daughter who discovered our little visitor.