Inside Fatherhood

Bats in my baby’s belfry

by Bill on August 30th, 2007

In preparation for the arrival of my son, I’ve taken it upon myself to completely remodel his future room. The largest and most difficult part of this process is the demolition and removal of the old “room.”

Our house is a modest, two story structure and is around 110 years old. My plans for the baby room involved tearing everything out, updating electrical, adding another window, sanding floors and adding fresh new walls. I tore up the floor boards from the attic to remove all the old insulation from the ceiling, ripped down the ceiling and have stripped the walls bare of paneling, lathe and plaster. I’ve spent the last week carrying 75 pound bags of plaster out out the house and down to the dumpster that now inhabits our back yard.

It’s a ton of work, but I feel like it’s my contribution as my wife has been so kind to ‘house’ the baby for nine months. I told her, you handle the womb, I’ll handle the room. And so far I have. However, last night my renovation took a slightly unexpected twist. As I was about to shut down my laptop before bed, I looked up an noticed a bat hanging from an antique mirror above the archway into our kitchen. Apparently we have bats in our attic who became interested in checking out the rest of the house when they realized the baby’s room no longer had a ceiling partitioning them off.

I ushered my dog (who would try and eat it) and my wife (who is terrified of bats) into the bedroom so neither of them would spazz out. I grabbed a clear deli container from the kitchen and stealthfully approached our visitor.

As I neared the little guy, I realized how high up he was and that I would have to stand on my toes to reach him. My heart began to beat faster. What if I missed? Would this pissed off bat turn me into the eternal undead, or even just bit the crap out of me?

I drummed up some courage and made my bid. I lashed out and quickly covered him in the container that once held potato salad. He immediately proceeded to flip out and squeak like the wheel on a rusty bike, speeding down a hill. I was relieved that I was able to get him and could release him without incident until I realized he was trying to make a break of his own. The mirror had a wood guilding across the face which prevented the deli container from sealing him in. This wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if I could have removed the mirror from the wall, but I couldn’t. Two brackets on the frame were snugly seated over rigid wall anchors. I had forgotten both how well I fastened the mirror in the first place, but also how heavy it was. When the mirror finally came free from its posts, it began to fall out of my hands towards the floor.As I fumbled with the stubborn mirror, watching this angry bat try and claw his way out towards my face, I came very close to smashing the mirror on the floor. I finally made it to the back door, only to realize I needed to set down the mirror/angry bat apparatus to unlock and open said door. As my heart rate reached 500, I realized that the whole situation was pretty funny. I’m a total idiot, I must have looked like a study in physical comedy.

When I finally got outside I set the mirror down on some garbage cans, flicked the deli container to release the winged rodent and booked it for the door. Problem solved, but now every time I hear a noise in the house I think he’s back with a few of his friends. They’re vengeful little creatures.

For some reason, this little adventure actually made me feel like a dad. Granted, my child hasn’t been born yet, but something about it all seemed distinctly fatherly. My dad did things like that when I was a kid, once ushering out a rogue squirrel who entered our house through a fireplace chimney. Hopefully I’ll be able to handle the other unexpected situations which crop up during fatherhood as well as my dad did, and continues to do to this day…. and hopefully that stupid bat doesn’t come back, either.

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