I'll set the scene.
I was in high school. I may or
Regardless, I came home, said good night to my dad and headed to bed. Fifteen minutes must have passed when he comes barging into my bedroom, asking me if I'm jumping around up here. Very confused and trying to recall if I had potentially fallen, I told him I just climbed into bed and nothing else. He looked at me through squinted, unbelieving eyes and bid me good night a second time.
Another 15 minutes had ticked by. I was awakened by the motion light in the drive way and peeked out my window to see what was going on. I saw a lot of movement and decided to go check it out.
* It's here that I interject another list factor for my previous post Nebraska is Potatoes. I was living in Oakland, Nebraska, town of 1,300 people at this time, and would leave my keys in the ignition on the side of the street. If this situation were to happen in my current location, I would grab a can of aerosol hairspray and my Bear Grylls knife and lock myself in the closet with my dog.
As I creeped out the back door and very slowly turned the corner to the driveway, I see my dad, in his pajamas, holding a broom like a sword aimed at a window fan. It was 1:00 am.
My dad is a very reasonable, intelligent, and responsible person. It's difficult to imagine him in this situation as I would probably place a meth addict in this scenario on a weekly basis. But, it's true.
I was speechless. I watched him let the front panel of the fan drop to the ground as something black and life-like flopped out. It made mild movements and I noticed its nasty rat-like body and veiny wings. This sneaky bat squeezed through the tiny slots in the window fan. The disturbing noise that, for whatever reason, sounded like me jumping on my bed was the bat attempting to fly, but getting caught in the revolving blades.
So, my dad, with his domesticated weapon took a full swing at the bat with the sweeping base of the broom. As the broom came crashing down, the bat rolled over, the broom shattered to pieces as he missed its body, and the bat regained strength and dignity and floated away into the darkness. Little mofo.
Happy Friday the 13th. Good luck. And love you, Petey!
Thanks for soundin' down.