...if Norwalk has any bat issues.
One thing I will not miss much is the fact that I have become an expert in bat-handling. Our ancient abode is a popular hideout for the furry little flyers, and I do not believe in killing a perfectly healthy, decent bat. Do you know how many mosquitoes one bat eats in a night? Anyway, I keep an eight-foot fishing net on the stairwell for just such occasions as happened this afternoon.
"MOM! There's a bat in Isaac & Alice's room!"
This poor little guy was dangling from the textured ceiling, sleeping peacefully. So peacefully that he didn't even wake up when I gently scraped him into my net, or when I carefully toted him downstairs and out the front door. He did, however, wake up when I shook the net, and he went right up into our tree.
Did you know that a bat's wing feels just like a brand-new pair of Sheer-Energy pantyhose that you just pulled out of the egg? Yeah, I know, that dates me pretty bad. I'm not even sure when they quit using plastic eggs for those things. It has to be a pretty major occasion to convince me to wear nylons again... BLEAH! Vile things, nylons.
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