Last night as I was getting ready for bed, the dog started barking like crazy. Then I head it: Frantic screaming coming from the living room "JON!"
When I asked what was wrong Kandy started yelling about a bat in the house. Not wanting to believe it, I went to investigate thinking (hoping) she was mistaken.
When I got to the living room, she was balled up on the floor with a blanket completely covering her. Still not sure there was truly a bat, I started to look around.
Then, suddenly, I was proven that she was right when M%^&* F!@#$%ing bat-bastard dive-bombed me.
Being the tough guy I am, I hit the floor.
Managed to work my way into the kitchen and propped the patio door open, hoping it would find its way out. Then found a broom and started bat-bashing.
Meanwhile, Kandy is still on the floor, and the dog is sitting on the back of the couch, watching the show.
After about ten minutes of me flailing around the living room at the crazed and most-certainly blood-thirsty bat, I managed to get it down a blind hallway. Using my best tactical methods, I finally got a lucky shot at it as it tried to bolt past me and knocked it to the floor.
I smacked it again with the broom and managed to get its screaming little ass outside where I bashed it with a shovel and threw it into the trash.
Now, I get to climb into the attic and look for bat entrances. And, with the temperature in the 90's outside it promises to be at least a couple hundred degrees up there.