Namaste.

So there I was doing a yoga video on Sunday night. Adam was gone, and I had big plans that included really productive things such as painting my toenails, watching a chick flick and sipping some tea on the couch.


A cool evening breeze blew in and I was soaking the moment up, congratulating myself on really taking an evening to relax.

In the middle of my downward dog, I heard a little something. Hmm that's weird I thought. That sounded kind of screechy. Like a bat! I shuddered. Ugh. I don't know what I would do if I saw a ---

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" I screamed as a flitty furry thing flew INTO MY LIVING ROOM.

AND LANDED ON MY FLOOR.

I stared. Terrified.

This is not happening. This is not happening. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

It didn't move.

I dashed onto the porch, propping the screen door wide open.

Please oh please oh please leave. I prayed, knees shaking.

Nothing. Still lying ON MY FLOOR.

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.


I banged the door a bit. And then a bit more.

Surely this noise will scare you just a bit so that you'll LEAVE ME ALONE. GO BACK OUTSIDE! YOU BELONG OUT HERE YOU IDIOT!

Nothing.

Trapped on the porch, I weighed my options. Things were looking bleak. My purse and keys were on the opposite end of the apartment. No way was I walking by THAT THING.

But my phone...

I glanced warily at the unmoving furball.

If it would just stay there and let me get a bit closer I could reach my phone on the coffee table just a few feet away.

I can do this. No I can't. I have to. I'm going to get rabies. What if it touches my hair? OH MY GOSH what if it flies at my face and I see it's eyes and...

Stop it. You need your phone. It is your only hope.

I took a deep breath.

I dashed.

Just as I grabbed my phone, IT MOVED.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! I screamed as IT FLEW BY THE LAMP AND BEHIND OUR COUCH.

I darted into the hallway and slammed the door shut.


"There is a bat in our apt!" I texted Adam, trying to be all cool and nonchalant.

(HA, HA. I know.)

I waited approximately 8 seconds before calling him.

He answered and heard a tearful, "THERE IS A BAT IN OUR APARTMENT AND I'M IN OUR HALLWAY AND IT IS MOVING AND I AM NOT WEARING ANY SHOOOOOOOOES!"

I sniffed.

"What!? Are you okay?"

"Yes. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! IT JUST CAME INSIDE! And it WON'T LEAAAAAAVE. And they CARRY RABIES!"

"I'm coming home."

"Okay," I cried.

"I think you should just grab a book and hang out and I"ll be there soon," he said reassuringly.

"I don't HAAAAAVE a book," I sobbed. "The books are all INSIDE. With the BAT IN OUR APARTMENT and I won't--hicuup--go--hicuup--back in there."

"It's going to be okay. Why don't you just play Tetris on your phone until I get there?"

"Um, okay." I said.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up.

"What's your plan?" I said.

"I don't have one," he said. "Just go in the bathroom, shut the door and I'll let you know when it's safe."

"Okay," I said. "But be careful."

And would you believe that my dear sweet husband took a broom and swatted all around our apartment in search of that little critter?

He sure did.

And would you also believe that HE NEVER FOUND IT?

Oh no he didn't.

And so, friends, while that night most certainly cemented my fear of ANIMALS UP IN MY SPACE and also expanded the definition of a true hero (and also true love), it did NOT leave my with any sort of peace of mind.

So, yes, what I'm saying, in short, is: I saw a bat enter my living room, my husband came home to save me and that bat may or may not have escaped.

Which also means, there may or may not still be AN ANIMAL LIVING IN MY HOME.

Help.