My house is around 60 years old. The majority of the electrical outlets only have two prongs because three-pronged plugs were not in vogue when the house was built. The upstairs carpet looks dirty-white with some random spots of blue- which would lead one to believe a stain years ago brought about the blue hue. Yet, as I was recently informed, blue was its original color. Dust from the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s can be found in any one of the attic spaces where artifacts from those time periods also abound.

Oh, the attic spaces. That's where my story begins. This week we're taking care of my aunt's doxen, Ruby. She's a bit annoying but overall a pretty good dog. Last night, as I was brushing my teeth, I hear Ruby barking in my room. She doesn't usually bark. Strange. So I go to investigate. I find Ruby standing in my room barking at the wall. The blank, inanimate, totally normal wall. Strange. After a few seconds of observation, I hear scratching. And scurrying. And various sounds that are characteristic of a small animal.

Great... mice. We now have mice to add to all the charming characteristics of this house. I walk downstairs to tell Dad because I don't know what to do about mice. They aren't bothering me by being in the wall but I thought he should know. Dad is equally thrilled. But, this is not a problem to deal with at 11pm so we both go to bed and decide to deal with it later.

2:13am. I am sleeping very soundly in my wonderfully comfortable bed with my fan on due to the slight humidity.
2:14am. I am rudely and very abruptly awaken by the feeling of small claws and a flurry of movement on my cheek. Completely disorientated and terrified, I whisk my hand over my face to remove whatever is on it and I leap out of bed onto the floor. Quickly finding my bearings, I think- "Crap. The mice have found their way out and one just crawled across my face." Yet blind as I am and dark as it is, I can not see a thing so I reach for my glasses and turn on my bed-side lamp. Scouring my pillow, bed, and floor nearby for a mouse or other culprit, I find nothing. Continue searching. Nothing.

Then, I see a dark, winged thing fly across my field of view and immediately I dive/roll/catapult myself towards the door (remember, I'm still on the floor at this point so it may have been more like a high-energy army crawl) in the realization that there is a BAT IN MY ROOM. No mice. Just a flapping, furry, frightening bat.

What does any 21-year old girl who still lives at home do when she realizes there is a bat in her room at 2am? Wake up Dad. Which is exactly what I do after a brief scream and an instantaneous reaction to shut the door to keep the creature where it is. In hindsight, there was no reason to alert anyone of the bat because whether it was removed then or in the morning, there was no way I was going to sleep in a potentially bat-infested room for the rest of the evenings. But who thinks that clearly at 2am?

So I woke up Dad, which woke up Mom, and in the process of me walking downstairs, both dogs woke up. Dad decided to deal with it in the morning, Mom gave me a pillow and her cell phone to use as an alarm since my alarm was up in the Do Not Enter zone, and I made my way onto the couch and tried to forget the feeling of a bat flying into my cheek.


PS. Dad took care of it in the morning. He said the bat was hanging out (ha- pun intended) on my window screen when he found it. For the rest of the morning, I gave my room a quick once-around before entering. I think I'm scarred now.