And Now For Something Completely Different
Finally back after a long break of not posting. Perhaps prompted by a good story to share, running in to our friend Sue Hegarty on the bus coming home from the state Fair, (which thanks to a questionable driver, was wilder than many of the Fair attractions) or just by the end of summer. I am still wondering where summer went, but it’s pretty much gone like that goofy Brett Favre rumpus. When I last posted we had just entered Hurricane Season 2008 and in the last week it has really hit the peak with Gustav beating up Louisiana and Hanna, Ike, and even Josephine ready to follow suit. Hopefully like Gustav, they won’t get too out of hand.
So after a long posting drought we’re back at it, but for this post no real tropical news, just a funny true life adventure. So as the Monty Python boys liked to say - “And now for something completely different”
Patrick Ó Brien
So my week started of with a real bang the other day. Well beyond just the normal back to school commotion. At 5:40am with razor in hand about t shave, our oldest is headed in to take a shower, switches on the bathroom light and is greeted by - a BAT! You can just imagine the panic and drama that ensued.
She enters our bedroom in a predictably stressed manner to inform us that we have an invader. The bat, no doubt similarly surprised, has decided to head someplace quieter, like downstairs in the kitchen.
I quickly ran down and shut the bathroom door hoping to isolate the winged evil and then went off in search of a suitable weapon to subdue him with. I was digging in the hallway closet trying to grab a broom all the while keeping a keen eye on the lookout, not knowing the BAT had relocated. Suddenly I spied him out of the corner of my eye doing loops a few inches off the kitchen floor.
Fortunately our faithful Jack Russell, Kelly, who has great affinity for chasing small critters, squirrel, rabbits, chipmunks, and even flies, didn’t notice the BAT and decided she would just go outside. Needless to say having her spot the BAT, and the wild chase that would have inevitably ensued, would have raised the surreal character of the morning to new heights of insanity.
So there I am, not fully awake at 5:41am, face full of shaving cream, in my pajama shorts, broom in hand.
Having ushered the dog out the front door, and now dangerously armed with my trusty broom, I made a flanking maneuver on the BAT by sneaking to the dinning room where I might be able to get a clean sweep at him on one of his kitchen loops. On his second loop I was able to land a glancing blow, knocking him off course - score one for me.
However, this first salvo in the BATtle (I know, horrible pun) caused the BAT to reconsider his position and realize he would be safer up in the living room. Advantage - BAT. Big Advantage BAT. Having him in the high ceilinged living room would make him considerably more difficult to deal with.
I now hastily took up a new position at the top of the steps - did I mention that all this time people are shouting helpful ideas and encouragement at me while positioned safely behind the closed bedroom door? I certainly appreciated the moral support, and I have to say they were truly wonderful ideas, like do we have a net? Which of course would have been more effective if we only actually owned a net. And even if we did own a net, somehow I couldn’t envision anyone leaving the safety of the bedroom at that moment to fetch said net for me.
So anyway, there I am strategically perched at the top of the steps with my trusty broom while the BAT, perhaps sensing he had the upper hand, in a moment of bravado makes a wide enough loop that I am able to get a good swing, knocking him perfectly into the front hall - Gooooaaaalllll!
The unwanted visitor, now stunned but still quite unhurt, was just about to take flight again and cause further terror and torment, but taking advantage of his brief disorientation, I was able to quickly scramble down the stairs and now wielding my broom as a hockey stick, get off a quick “wrister” sweeping him against the screen door. With no time to spare I raced to fling open the screen door with one hand and deftly flip the stunned Mr. BAT out on the front porch, where quickly coming to his senses he took off into the early morning September sky.
While I can’t speak for Mr. BAT, I am guessing that he was just as thrilled as I was about starting his week in this fashion.
Meanwhile, our dog Kelly is standing outside just a few feet from the porch and seems to have no interest in coming into the house. I can’t imagine why? Here’s this as yet un-caffeinated, adrenaline pumped, lunatic with a face full of shave cream, brandishing a broom yelling at her to come in. I think I would have run like hell.
So how’s your day started out?
