Let's review this summer from a wild angle, shall we?
A snake. In my yard.
There was a shrew which I was oddly attached to, right up until the neighbor's cat bit its head off and left it in our driveway.
Frogs. Lots and lots of frogs.
Did I mention that some birds decided to make a nest in one of our vents? As in, they were INSIDE OUR HOUSE ABOVE THE FAMILY ROOM CEILING? And that there were eggs? And baby birds? And that you could hear the baby birds chirping when you were in the Hello Kitty bathroom? Well, you could. They moved out on their own, but only after a very long few weeks of us debating whether or not we needed to evict them.
All of that is to say, he should have known.
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We sat gathered in the neighbor's driveway (Not the neighbors with the nuisance cat, the neighbor who makes amazing salads) chatting about this thing and that thing and everything in between. I don't remember exactly how our attention turned to a bat flying overhead, but it did.
And then another one flew overhead.
And then another.
"Um, I think there are bats flying out of our house," I said slowly.
I couldn't be sure because the sun was singing a goodnight lullaby as it slipped below the horizon, but at least five bats had most certainly appeared from the front corner of our house.
Please refer back to the first section of this post. Would you have doubted me?
The husband did. He doubted me and he mocked me and he started calling me The Crazy Bat Lady. "There's no way they're flying out of our house, you nutball," he said.
Dear Married Men,
Never tell your wife there is no way she's right. The universe will shift, magic will happen, fairy godmothers will make dreams come true. If she wasn't right when the conversation started, she will be by the time it's done.
Love,
The Woman Who Has Played This Game For Over 12 Years
He went on to make a Very. Big. Deal. out of my wrongness. A boys vs. girls debate broke out with us women-folk insisting that someone needed to climb a ladder and make sure there weren't any holes leading into the attic. The men-folk thought it was all very funny because HAHAHA THERE IS NO WAY THERE ARE BATS FLYING OUT OF THE HOUSE. At some point, the neighbor grabbed a flashlight and tried to prove that men are smart, but it had gotten too late. No bats were to be seen that night. The husband took that as a sign that he was right.
But the next night the husband got a phone call. We were out picking up medicine for the girl with the gross arm when the husband's cell phone rang and the neighbor was on the line.
"I'm watching bats fly out of your house. Your wife was right," he said.
I couldn't hear the words, but the smoke coming out of the husband's ears told the whole story. I fought the urge to scream IN YOUR FACE and succeeded, but only because YOU GUYS, THERE WERE BATS FLYING OUT OF MY HOUSE.
The next day was filled with ladders and exploration and the confirmation that they weren't actually in the house, but rather living between a piece of trim and the brick. Which, you know, is definitely better. Seriously. I like bats when they are outside. They eat bugs. Bug eaters are good! If they make their way inside my house, though? GAME ON. And by GAME ON I mean the only solution to this problem is to burn the house down. Twice.
Anyway, the little tiny hole the bats were using to get behind the trim has been filled and the bats have moved on to someone else's house (sorry to whichever neighbor has been blessed with their presence!). All that is left to prove that I was right and that the bats were indeed flying out of our house is a blog post.
And a video.
I TOLD YOU SO, MR. HUSBAND.
For the record, there were SEVENTEEN bats living in that tiny hole. SEVENTEEN. I only managed to capture thirteen of them on video, but I assure you the other four were there.