Do not read alone...or in the dark.

Back by popular demand- the bat story:

So it's 2:30 am and I'm doing what other people with day jobs do: sleep. I awaken to the sound of things falling off the walls or hail or something. So I get up and walk to the door of my bedroom, conveniently kept open for the air conditioning to cool my bedroom (not an easy task).
What do I see when I walk to my door? A FA-REAKING BAT!
Here is what I am thinking (in order):
1.) Bats carry rabies which is 99.9% fatal if acquired.
2.) Christie and Amy had to get 5 rabies shots IN THEIR BUTTS after they found a bat in their house.
3.) Do bats hear better than they see or the other way around?
4.) Close the door! Close the door! Close the door!
5.) Call mom!
So I call my mom and she answers sleepily. This is the second time I've done this to her- the last time I answered with, "The police just left." This time I just said, "Mom, there's a bat in my apartment."
She tries to talk me into going out there, but I get as far as my door with my swiffer broom in hand and am paralyzed with fear. We talk like this for several minutes and then she says, "We're both awake, we're coming downtown."
As I sit on my bed waiting for their arrival, I decide now is a good time to have some quality time with God, so I pull out my Bible and do some reading. I am also keeping one eye on the door becuase there's a pretty significant crack under the door- my plan is to smash it with the swiffer if it tries to shimmy under the door.
So I am sitting, the ED rising within me, desperately needing a drink of water, and praying for mom and dad's safe trip downtown.
I hear the door open and some commotion, I ask if it's them (you never know) and I open the door to rush out. I first poked out the swiffer and newly acquired broom for safety. Mom starts telling me to shut the door AS THE BAT DIVE-BOMBS MY FRO.
I drop the bat fighting tools and run into the kitchen where I immediately burst into tears with my shirt covering my face (I'm so going to get made fun of for this, aren't I?) My parents have my balcony door open and are fighting the bat like it's their job.
Dad finally bats it to the ground (did you like that?) and gets it out the door. He, in typical Wayne fashion, turns to me and says, "That was a good sized bat (HUGE people- HUGE). Batman and Robin are going home." Then they try to leave.
I finally compose myself and make them check all the areas for potential other flying creatures and thank them profusely. Debris litters the floor- apparently it was going to take the bricks out one piece at a time to get out.
Here's what I learned: What unconditional love is this? To drive downtown at 3am to fight bats? I love my parents!