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To the bat cave!

If you've ever wondered where's the bat cave, have I got great news for you. It's in my house.

Maybe you were like me and thought about bats only after watching something vampire-related. As Kansas City vermin, they just weren't on my radar. Mice? Traps. Spiders? Exterminator. Bats? Huh? Who deals with bats around here?

Now I do.

My least favorite thing about moving to Husband's neighborhood (and there are many great things, too) is that I now live in a menagerie of my two biggest phobias - snakes and bats. And they are plentiful. Fortunately the snakes have remained outside the house. (At least so far. Crap.)

The bats, however, make themselves at home. Last summer, after an evening walk with Trudy, I opened the front door to a bat circling the living room. Completely freaked out, I called Husband who was working a rock show. He picks up the phone to me screaming "Bat! Bat! There's a %$(*#@ bat in the house!" He can't get home, so our kind neighbor donned his motorcycle gear, helmet included, and trapped the bat in a light sconce.

To my dismay, this happened several more times last summer. Apparently our chimney is some sort of bat spa when temps get above 90 degrees. This left me borderline hysterical. Husband felt I was overreacting and told me how beneficial bats are because they can eat up to 500 mosquitoes a day. While impressive, this did not ease my fear. You see, there's only one person in the house that isn't  vaccinated against rabies. One guess who it is.

In his defense, he did attempt to fill  holes underneath the eaves and around the chimney. We thought the problem was solved until Tuesday night. As I glance in the living room, I notice there is foil stuffed around the edge of the fireplace insert. Hmmm. Even more disturbing is the fact he's leaving the next day to go out of town. Which leaves me, a nearly seven-month pregnant bat-phobe, and Trudy, a dog who confuses bat time as play time, to hold down the fort.

He caught two and they were babies, which made me feel badly for some reason. (Damn you, pregnancy hormones!) Babies become vicious adult bats. Remember that, Jen. We sealed off the fireplace with a MacGyver-ish barrier of heavy-duty plastic and duct-tape. The next morning, there is was again. Chirp, chirp, chirp. Good god, are they multiplying?

As long as they are contained in the chimney, I told Husband it would be okay. We shall see how the handiwork holds up. We shall also find out the earliest time the Critter Catchers can get here.

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