Bat Country

We have a thing for bats here.

My first real run-in with a bat was when Mollie was about seven or eight. The room at the top of the stairs was hers and I had the bedroom at the bottom of the stairs (very small house), and in the middle of the night, I heard this godawful scream, and the very few maternal instincts I have propelled me out of bed to the bottom of the stairs where I caught her as she flung herself down them.

There’s a bat in my room!” she screamed. “It’s caught in the fan and it’s flapping!”

“No, honey, it’s just a piece of paper,” I said, patting her, and then the bat flew down the stairs. Continue reading