in the early morning hours of our third marriage anniversary, seth and i were awoken by a special winged guest.
it was quite a humorous scene:
Seth in his underoos, creeping over to the bedroom curtain with giant bucket in hand, ready to pounce (thank goodness we had emptied the remaining drywall mud the night before). I was completely helpful, of course, peeking out from under the down comforter to scream that if Seth did not get the bat out soon, his wife would die of a heat stroke right there in our 99-degree bedroom. Maybel was barking and growling ferociously at the bucket. (The bat she was okay with, but much like melons, she didn’t trust bucket’s shape.)
Steter bravely got the bat inside the bucket and had it pinned against the window. After some brief discussion as how best to move forward, Seth convinced me to come out from under the blanket. I snuck over to release the curtain from the rod so that Seth could take the whole mess — bucket, bat, curtain and all — outside so presumably the thing could fly right back into the house another day.
Upon exit from our house, the curtain remained miraculously on the bucket, so the bat could not escape. Seth retrieved the curtain it in such a way that the bat ended up flying in his face anyway.
For more details, look for us in the three-part Dispatch.com series, ‘You Have Rabies.’ *
* joke preemptively credited to G. Jonah.
not this kind of bat attack.
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