BatGirl

Cory's been providing a day-by-day account of our vacation travels. I feel no need to do the same. However, I will elaborate on some of his notes.

Thursday night, upon returning from our trip to WallyWorld, Cory, Chris (his mom), Travis (his best friend from high school) and I returned to the Chateau O'Donnell. Travis was about to head back home, after rescuing us from the TV-won't-fit-in-the-car debacle. We're all standing in the living room, hoping that the new television set will fit in the entertainment center, when Cory points at something on the dining room ceiling.

"What's that thing on the ceiling?" he asked, though I suspect he knew exactly what it was.

Almost too calmly, I responded, "It's a bat." To be specific, it was a Little Brown Bat. But I didn't provide them with that information.

Simultaneously, Chris, Cory, and Travis all made various versions of nervious squealing noises, and all three moved hastily away from the kitchen. I just stood there staring at it.

"They're harmless." I said, trying to keep Chris from freaking out. She had already run into the back of the house. "they're cute. They're like little mice with wings."

Travis pointed out that perhaps that wasn't the best simile to use. Not everyone, apparently, finds mice to be as cute as I think they are. Seriously, though. Bats Are cute. Look at little Stellaluna-- she's adorable.

While they all nervously tried to figure out what to do, I devised a plan. I'd need a large pot or some sort of container. Chris got up the nerve to accompany me to the kitchen to find a pot, but she kept trying to give me frying pans instead. I think she thought I was going to beat it with a frying pan and kill it.

Finally, we found a big glass casserole dish, I stood on a chair, covered him with the dish, slid a lid in on top of the poor little guy, and took him outside. He was terrified. He flattened himself against the bottom of the dish and didn't want to get him out. It took a little coaxing with a tree branch but he flew away.

I have to admit, I was pretty proud of myself. The Sportlady, kind to small animals. Friend to bats. Calm in a crisis. That's me.

Until tonight.

At a little after midnight, I decided I needed ice cream. I dropped several hints in hopes that Cory would go to the store for me, but to no avail. So I decided to head out to the gas station and buy a pint of the crappy ice cream they sell there. I grabbed my keys and purse, opened the front door, and was greeted by... well... I'm not sure what the hell it was.

Something flew into the apartment, though really, it just kind of dropped into the apartment. It landed on the floor with an audible thud and started making a horrible, loud buzzing sound like a mechanical wind-up toy. All this happened in about a nanosecond. I immediately started screaming, flapping my arms, and hopping up and down before I came to my senes, and ran, lungs screaming, arms flapping, to the other end of the apartment.

"What the hell is it?" Cory asked, a little freaked out by the noise, and probably even more freaked out by my behavior.

"Aaaaauuuuggghh!" I responded, still incapable of speech.

It was an insect, at least three inches long, with wings at least two inches longer than its body. It was on the floor, vibrating and buzzing, scaring the crap out of both of us.

Cory grabbed a shoe, then realized that even his size 13s would be inadequate defense against this six-legged beast. I eventually stopped cowering under the table in the dining room and together, we managed to trap it under a broom, and sweep it out the front door. Actually, that took two tries... the first time he stuck to the broom and plopped right back onto the linoleum.

I still needed ice cream... now more than ever. So I went out the back door, walked around the building, and Cory came with me. My heart was still racing. We got to our front door, shone a flashlight on the monster, and couldn't decide what to do about it.

I have a problem with killing things... especially things larger than a cockroach. This was much, much larger than a cockroach. Cory was convinced that the thing was already seriously hurt, since it wasn't moving. He decided to sneak up on it and put it out of its misery with his shoe. He gave it a whack, and suddenly it came back to life, buzzing loudly enough to wake the neighbors. Cory jumped about two feet straight up into the air, then gave it another smack and finished the job.

So in the span of one week, I've gone from Sportslady of Steel to Sportslady of Pudding. From Friend of Nature to Nature's Foe. Seriously, though, I haven't seen an insect this terrifying since my encounter with the giant black grasshopper two years ago.