Only Ancillary Knitting

Does anyone know anything about bats? Because I might need a hand.

Last night, at around 8, I decided to get ready for bed and play with the rattie girls for an hour or so. T was sleeping peacefully on the couch/futon in the living room, so I made my way ever so quietly to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

T and I have different habits regarding doorways. He likes to close doors, and I tend to leave them open (not that I have a preference, I'm just a little on the lazy side). As I opened the door to the bathroom, I thought, "Oh, how I hate opening this door into a dark room. I always feel like something is going to jump out at me."

As god as my witness. I actually thought those very words.

The lightswitch is on the wall across the door, so I quickly made my way over and flipped it on. Some flapping caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to witness what (I thought) was the biggest damn moth I'd ever seen in my life. I ducked and looked up at it, when it clung to the wall over the sink in a distinctly non-moth-like way.

It was a BAT.

I've always liked bats. I've always looked forward to summer evenings, when they can be seen leaving their hidey-holes in pursuit of my dreaded enemy (the mosquito), swirling and looping and flapping away. They look so beautiful and elegant against a lavender sky. Sigh.

This bat, however, is not my friend. It did not look beautiful to me when it was mere inches above my head, chasing me out of the bathroom. (In all fairness, I know in my head it wasn't chasing me, but my heart was screaming to RUN.) I failed to see the grace of its movements as it flapped about the living room, ripping a scream from my throat. T jumped up and asked, "What's going on?" I, croching on the floor with my arms over my head, pointed toward the ceiling and howled, "A bat! It's a bat!" Then I crawled beneath the futon (?), and dissolved into hysterical laughter. I could not stop laughing. This happens to me occasionally, when I'm really afraid. It's kind of uncool.

As though this weren't harrowing enough, because I was being a sissy scaredy-cat and hiding, and T had left the room for a minute, we lost the freaking bat! We searched for more than an hour, behind everything, under everything, on top of everything. No bat. And let me tell you, this was not one of those little cute bats. The damn thing's wingspan was like a foot! And I'm not just saying that because of the hysteria.

I, of course, am convinced that the bat is lying in wait to make me pee my pants once I let my guard down. I'd like to just leave a door or window open at dusk tonight, but what if his friends come to join him? I will be on pins and needles until I see that bat leave. Any tips for kindly getting him out of my house? How will I be able to concentrate on my knitting?