BATMAN

Two years ago, I got my first up close and personal encounter with a bat ad since then, I can't seem to escape them. For as long as I can remember, I've been afraid of birds. To get over this, my friend Jane thought I should attend the annual bat release at Joslyn Museum in downtown Omaha. Reluctantly, I agreed to go.

I was miserable.

Hundreds of bats being released back into the wild wasn't for me (especially since we were flying directly into the place we were sitting). Most of that night I spent under a blanket, screaming, and begging for us to leave. The only take away I had from the night, besides a reinforced fear of anything that flies, is that 80% of the bats released end up finding their way into buildings and houses.

Fast-forward 3 months, and I have my first bat in my house. It was a Tuesday night and I had just returned home from my bocce ball league (and celebratory winning drinks in Midtown Crossing) and a bat flew down my chimney and I went nuts.

I immediately started screaming, hid under a blanket (again) and called a friend that I knew had dealt with a similar situation a month earlier. In an attempt to settle down, and waiting for the Humane Society to arrive, I made myself an adult beverage and hid out in my sunroom.

What seemed like hours (I think it was close to 45 minutes) the Humane Society arrived and the bat was removed.

I thought I was done. I couldn't have been more wrong.

So the leaf I thought was stuck to my shutter for months, was actually a bat. A dead bat. If you're counting, this makes #2 (the fact I haven't yet died of a heart attack is a miracle in and of itself).

After two close encounters with bats (one alive and one dead), the 'batman' nickname began to stick. Plush bats, rubber bats, and bat stickers started to appear all over my desk at school, in my teacher mailbox, and in my classroom.

Then, I came home one day and someone had been putting bat clue in my yard (see photo below). Sidenote: I have yet to figure out the person(s) behind this.

Just when I thought it was done, I give you bat #3. My best friend, Shelby, was in from Phoenix visiting the week of Labor Day. We had just returned from dinner when I came across #3 flying around the dining room. The dog and cat were both jumping around, and again I was screaming.

My friend Shelby couldn't hold back, and filmed much of my freak-out. With umbrella in hand, I called the Humane Society (again) to report this nasty critter. To make matters worse, a lovely woman came to remove the critter, laughing at my inability to compose myself near the bat. 

I still look around before entering a room. I am still afraid of bats.