OK, first of all, I think some (a freaking LOT) of you missed the humor and sarcasm in my last post. Although I appreciate those of you who took the time to send me information on bats and rabies, the moth in my room was simply a moth. I was joking when I said it was a bat. And for the sake of complete clarity, it was also not really the size of a Buick. Nor was it an alien or a zombie. That was humor. It's what I do. It makes some people laugh. Apparently, it makes others freak out and send me information on bats, rabies, how to catch a bat, and how they make medication for this sort of mental disorder.
Now, to continue my bat (MOTH!) story...
Jackson and I stopped off at home after his hockey game to quickly change clothes before going to Austin's baseball game. We were the only ones in the house at the time. Or so we thought. While Jax went to his room to take off his hockey gear, I went to the bathroom to change into jeans so the mosquitoes wouldn't eat my ankles at the game. So, I'm pulling my jeans on when out of nowhere, BAM! The moth flies by! I was very calm, cool, and collected as I screamed and tried to run away. But you can't really run when your pants are around your knees. I fell in a heap on the floor like a huge, half-dressed dork who's afraid of a batmoth. Because, pretty much, I am a huge dork who's afraid of any flying creature.
Since I was too busy trying to pull up my pants, I didn't notice where he went. "NOOOooooooo! I lost him!" I cried. hands outstretched to the heavens. He had waited two days to make a sneak attack on me and it had worked! He caught me with my pants down, so to speak. No, really. And, just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared without a trace. Again.
"Ok moth, you win this round, but the war isn't over yet. Just you wait!" I threatened out loud to no one in particular while Jackson, who'd just walked into the room, looked at me like I needed psychiatric help.
We went to the baseball game, came home, and resumed our quest for the moth who'd obviously had advanced tactical training.
Aha! Kitchen cabinets! Get the paper towels!!!
I flung a wad of paper towels up toward the ceiling. But when you're 5' 3" and your ceilings are, umm, much taller than that, it's probably not going to be the most effective moth removal system. He flew toward Jackson's head. Jackson, who assures me he did not freak out, did some sort of Matrix-like, bending-over-backwards maneuver as the moth missed grazing his forehead by mere millimeters.
He landed on the wall, stuck out his tongue, and looking me directly in the eye, said, "Bring it!" More crazy paper towel flinging ensued. The moth laughed, mocking me, and took off down the hallway toward the girls' room where he landed...
...right on Justin Bieber's face! "Hi girls. I'm pop sensation, Justin Bieber. Sure you can take a picture of me. I'll just look over my shoulder like this and toss my hair back in a sexy way and smile like what the heck?!!! There's a bug on my face! Eek! Get it off! Get it off! Oh for the love of all that is holy, get this satanic batbug OFF MY FACE!"
Lexi, my sweet little nine-year-old, fed up with all of us at this point, grabs a paper towel and squishes the bug right on Justin's face. SMACK!
"Do you have him? Is he dead? Are you sure? Look again? Okay, now squish him again for good measure. Whew!" It's nice I have a sweet princess of a nine-year-old girl to take care of big manly jobs like this for me, huh?
So, all is well, that ends well. The moth was dead. Jackson could stop hiding under the couch, er um, I mean, looking for his drumsticks under the couch. I could stop sleeping under the covers for fear of bat droppings, and Lexi, well, I'm not sure she'll look at Justin Bieber the same way again. A couple hours later, I went to my room to chat with a friend online. A few minutes into our chat, Savannah whipped open my bedroom door, letting it slam into the wall. "I thought you said the moth was dead! He's in my room!" she said disgustedly.
"He is dead! I saw him! Or he was dead anyway... Oh! My! Gosh! There really is such a thing as a zombie bat-moth! Run for your lives, kids! He'll eat your brains!"
Okay, I didn't really say that. Everyone knows zombies don't eat brains.
Savannah caught the moth in a cup.
She put another glass on top of the first one. I thought she was going to make a martini out of the moth, but she explained it was just so I could get a better picture to show you so you'll all know what an idiot I am for freaking out over an average sized moth. (I still say it's huge. These pictures are deceiving.)
Then she did the unthinkable. She relocated him outside! As I sit here typing, I hear him knocking on my window in a menacing way. He'll be back. He'll be back and he won't be taking any prisoners.
Edited to add - Yes, yes, I know. I've been told that the bat didn't, in fact, land on Justin Bieber's face. I guess it was Logan Lerman, whoever that is. All those teen stars look alike to me. Sorry.