Look at these crazy kids in love, June 1, 2002 Tempe, Arizona
Technically, June 1st, our anniversary, started this morning at 12am. I was peacefully asleep at 12am, but our day of celebration started with a first for both of us. Around 3:42 am, Presley woke up crying for a drink. Gary went in to settle her back in then went to the kitchen to get a drink. I dozed back to sleep but was awakened with a HUGE SURGE of adrenaline when I heard what can only be described as the sound of a table overturning, chairs being pushed rapidly across the floor, a little yelling, and then sprinting feet towards our bedroom door. I don't know how I got out of bed and turned on the light as fast as I did, but I met Gary at the door as he rounded the corner. He slammed the door behind him and was totally freaked out. Which, by the way, is totally out of character for him as he's generally pretty calm and awesome in an emergency situation. I honestly had no idea what was happening and many thoughts were racing in my head... had something happened to one of the girls (whose bedroom is across from ours)?, Did someone break in? Was Gary injured? He began apologizing profusely and quickly blurted out that there was a bat in our house.
A what now?
A. Freaking. Bat.
He didn't have time to explain as we had to devise a plan to trap a bat. My hands were shaking, and Gary was also shaken. So we decide we need to close the girls' bedroom door so it doesn't fly in there. Meanwhile, the bat is going nuts and flying in circles around our family room. We pull the blanket off our bed to cover the doorway between the family room and hallway. Gary holds it up so I can close the door. I have to reassure an awake Presley to stay in her room and not to open the door no matter what. It's about this time that I begin to get a little light headed, a little woozy. I get those pre-passing out cold sweats so I sit down. Clearly I am not the level-headed one in times of crisis. Gary's arms are getting tired from holding up the quilt so I stand to help, only I am no help, I pass out. I was only out for a bit, as I could hear Gary (still holding the quilt up by the way) asking repeatedly if I'm okay. We can hear that crazy bat running into the blanket and whizzing around the room. We retreat to the bedroom and google "there's a bat in my house what do I do?".
Seriously, we can hear the thing running into our door and the hall walls. We decide to open all the windows and doors to try to shoo the thing out. Gary is going to climb out our bedroom window and open the doors from the outside... only we remember that our keys are in the kitchen. I suggest we rig up a bat proof suit. I'm going to cover Gary in the quilt and send him out there. Sometimes it's nice being a woman with a chivalrous husband. He is worried about his face, so I hand him some sheer unmentionable from my top drawer to put over his face so he can see. Macho man decides to just go for it, sans DIY batsuit. I cover him from behind the door and he runs, ducking and weaving, to the kitchen. Presley is calling to me from her room and I just read, via google, that bats can climb in spaces a half inch wide, including under doors. I feel scared that the bat is going to terrorize the girls so I go and retrieve Presley. Mylie is sound asleep, so Mom of the Year just covers her entire body with her comforter and calls it good. I bring Presley into our room and leave her there. By this time The Bat is M.I.A., which is even less comforting than before. Together, towels in hand (not sure what we were planning to use them for... maybe swatting?), we venture to the basement. We need to clear Noah's room and close his door so he's safe too. That boy was still sleeping through all the chaos. We searched the entire house to only discover that there are unending places for the bat to hunker down, have babies, and make it her forever home. So around 5am, we retreat. Gary sleeps in the girls' room with Mylie, while I sleep in our bed with Presley. I spent about 45 minutes answering Presley's questions about bats and why I couldn't go to the kitchen to get her a drink of water.
We emerged this morning full of paranoia that a rabid bat was going to swoop from the backs of kitchen cabinets and closets to bite our faces. I can't get this image out of my head:
So we don't have a plan about how to draw the bat out from its hiding spot. I have a hunch it is going to try to attack me tonight.
So after that thrilling start to our thirteenth year of marriage, I'd say we're off to a good start!