I think the majority of people would call it “Murphy’s Law”. Military wives just know it as a truism.
The spouse goes away and SOMETHING is bound to happen, at the most inopportune times.
Such as when you are enjoying a soak in the tub and not having to hear squabbles going on the other side of the door between siblings who are easily offended / wronged. You think you’ve hit a bit of peace; a small bit of heaven.
Until the raucous commences in the other room. You know it is “just” the animals, so you hurriedly finish your task and set out to discover what is going on. Praying it is not a mouse as they are horribly hard to catch.
And look! My prayers were answered.
Now, I admit to not being an excellent, or even good, housewife. I don’t dust fans till right before they go into storage for the year. I claim this is a safety thing as they are generally running all summer. But man! That is one large dust bunny!
You know, an artistic one, in the shape of a . . .
A bat! In broad daylight and IN MY HOUSE. (And too close on the heels of this encounter to be a coincidence, I think.)
As I mentioned the fans run continuously during the summer in my house so the first thing I did was turn it off, and then grabbed the camera. The little guy was very willing to oblige and stayed very still, but most of my pictures came out fuzzy as I was shaking.
I shaking due to the laughter that one incurs as a homeschool mother, when you realize that you are in your bedroom, fresh from the tub, with nothing but a towel wrapped around you, taking pictures of a bat that you want to be sure to show your kids when they return, for that one day lesson on bats that you have planned out for science this school year.
Please tell me that I’m not the only one that does this?!
The little guy even moved a bit to assure me he was still alive and to give me a better angle of his face. (Isn’t it just so cute?) And then I thought to call my friends, which I did, to inform them of the situation.
They all wanted to come down to see, and recalling my current state of dress I asked them to give me a minute.
Meanwhile I’m carrying on an entire conversation with the bat, who was now christened “Henry”. (I figured if it was a girl it was okay with my shortening “Henrietta” to “Henry”, and if it was a boy it just wouldn’t care.) I informed him that I would keep the nasty attack cats away if he would just stay within the confines of the fan until such a time as I could get the fan outside. Henry willingly obliged.
Soon, I was joined by four others: the other homeschool mom, who’s first question was rather or not I had taken pictures, and her 3 younger daughters.
So, I draped a sheet over the fan, handed my camera over to the girls and we all tramped downstairs and outside, to let Henry free.
Henry was so overjoyed at the thought of this that he poked his little nose through the grate just as I pulled the sheet off.
Suddenly I was the only person in the vicinity. The other four had retreated to the far side of the porch squealing.
I asked for my camera, and it was immediately given to the mother, who promptly returned it to the daughter and said, “Mrs. Christine wants the camera, hon.”
Another squeal, “He’s coming out!”
“Which is why I want the camera. . .”
Squealing again, “I am not going over there!”
“Just stretch really far and give me the camera.”
“Watch out, Christine, he’s coming out! Back away so he doesn’t climb up on you.”
Much squealing, and then Henry, with great relief, I’m sure, was free and away. (For the record, he went straight out from the fan and never touched me.)
I never did get the picture of his escape.
Oh, and in case you thought I was totally kidding about the day of bat study. . .
Love this book! I read it with Drew and Tyler and now we’ll use it for our study of bats with Garrett and Mikhail.
The boys spent the day celebrating Great Grandma’s 96th birthday. When I talked to them last night they were terribly impressed with the amount of food available. And all those extended family members that they were meeting (some for the first time)?
Well. . .food is my kiddoes love language. . .