Batman? Well, not quite.

A month and a half ago, I was on the phone with my mom, standing in our basement going through a box, when all of a sudden something started flying around. Our basement ceiling is pretty low and it was flying pretty fast, so it was difficult to tell for certain but I was pretty sure it was a bat. I made a mad dash for the stairs, screaming the whole time, trying not to run into the damn thing. I slammed the door to trap it.

As soon as I got upstairs I hung up with my mom and called Ronnie at work. I told him there was something in the basement - a bat, a bird - it was flying around and I wasn't going back down there until it was out! When he got home he went downstairs, armed with the leaf blower. I went to the bathroom and closed the door. What? You thought I was going to help? After about a half hour of effort, he declared me crazy and the basement to be free of all things flying. For nearly a week and a half I slowly creeped into the basement every single time I went down there. I inspected the rafters and hurriedly completed my tasks. I was not taking chances. I KNEW what I saw and I didn't want to see it again. I eventually started to think that perhaps I WAS crazy or maybe it had found it's way out. Whatever the case....good riddance!

WRONG!

This evening Ronnie went to the basement and my bat friend dive-bombed HIS head! Karma. Not only did he have to admit that I wasn't crazy, he had to get the damn thing out. (You didn't think I was going to do it, did you?) By the time he went back down stairs it was crawling around on the floor - malnourished and I think they almost gave each other a heart attack. He finally got it in a towel and out the door. It wouldn't even fly away. He had to go out a few minutes later and shake the towel again to get it to fly away.

A bat. In our basement. FOR ALMOST TWO MONTHS!!! You can't make this stuff up, people.