Last night Palmer saved me. From a bat. The boy was going to take a bath (we are housesitting in addition to moving this week) when he saw what at first he described as "a bird", but upon closer inspection shrieked, "IT'S A BAT!!!"
He and I hid out in the bedroom for a minute while I tried to remember what to do with a bat in the house. I came up with the best plan available to me: Call my mommy. When that didn't elicite much in the practical idea area, I called Palmer (who was staying at our new pad for the first time last night), and after he gave me some great practical ideas, I got him to come over and help me implement them (he wasn't too excited, from the sound of his voice).
After some towel throwing and sheet waving (and a lightbulb being broken), we ushered the bat out of the front door (although there was a perfectly good door upstairs to fly through, silly thing).
Palmer went home to bed, and the little boy (who had been in the bath and hiding again in the bedroom during Bat-o-mergency 08) tried to wind down after all that excitement.
Later on I found what I assumed was a dead bat in a box fan upstairs. I figure it must have squeezed itself in between two broken slats when the fan was off, and then been stunned by the fan being turned on and eventually died of dehydration.
As the post title suggests, I consider bats, in my completely culture stealing way, to be my totem animal. That is, I feel that bats are special to me (WHEN OUTSIDE) that I have an affinity to them. I once had a cinderella moment when I was walking near my grandmother's house and a bat kept swooping near me. I was a teenager and dressed all in black, and it was very demi-goth and cool. And my first tattoo was of a bat. Her name is Koko (yes, after the sign-language speaking gorilla).
Tonight will be Palmer and my first night together in our new home. I think last night's bat catching and subsequent light bulb sweeping was a good bonding experience. Hopefully he didn't lose too much sleep!