Confederate Bats

I'm still trying to get all of my stories together from my Nashville trip - a place where I have spent one-eighth of my life so far. So, here's my update.

Getting the chance to make my first out of state trip was a real joy. But, I never expected that my family would be attacked by bats. Yep, you got it - bats....or, one bat...maybe more.

It started out one night when mom and dad and I arrived back to grandma's house after a nice visit with Aunt Jenny and all those people (they say y'all a lot). Mom and I went upstairs to bed and dad watched some t.v. We were all pretty tuckered out.

When dad climed the stairs, he said he thought a bird flew by his head. At second glance, the bird was circling the upstairs room. He is pretty tough, but I don't think he likes bats. So, he went and got Poppa Joe....who accused him of having too much to drink.

So, dad came into our bedroom and closed the door to make sure the bat didn't come in. Instead, later that night Grandma saw the bat in the kitchen. Still, Poppa Joe couldn't catch it.

At about 3:00 a.m., I woke mom up to feed me. She burped me and then put me in the crib and I crashed. According to the stories I heard, mom claims to have heard the bat fluttering outside the door when she burped me. When she laid down to sleep, she looked up and that bat was flying around our room!

"Get the baby! Get the baby!" Mom kept yelling at dad to wake me up to catch that bat I guess. With the covers over his head, he hunkered down in the bed and replied, "I'm trying! I'm trying!!!!"

I guess he got me out, I don't know. But, I wasn't about to let a bat interrupt my cherished beauty sleep.

That bat bothered mom and dad and grandma for the entire next day; flying in the kitchen for a while, crawling along the floor, hanging upside down from grandma's iron wine rack.

I slept and ate.
Finally, while my family enjoyed pizza that evening, that bat came back! Quite a long time ago, I was told by a Chinese wiseman - you know, the ones with those long, stringy beards - anyway, I was told that bats really can't resist pepperoni thin-crust pizza. We had the bait!

Armed with a net and a broom, Poppa Joe and Uncle Drew went after that creature. My cousin Grant helped too. But, overall, I was the foreman on the job.

I creatively developed a strategy to corner the bat and catch it in the net. Uncle Drew, following strict orders from me, swung the fishing net toward the unwelcome beast and just missed getting it into the net. Instead, the metal frame of the net smacked that creature right on the head and it flew across grandma's living room and into a potted plant.

Poppa Joe threw the net on it and took it outside. In the process, that bat got tangled in the netting. So, Poppa Joe had to unravel it.

Bats squeak like little weaklings when they are scared. This one sounded A LOT like my dad's cries of terror when the bat came near him.

Pretty cool story, huh?
Oh, then I took a bath in grandma's bathroom sink. It was pure luxury! Just like bathing in a sink in France!
That was pretty much my biggest adventure in Nashville. Bats. I wouldn't mind having a bat someday. If for nothing else than to watch my dad scream like a little poopy baby!