- I assisted in the capture and homicide of a bat.
- I spilled a gallon of hot, soapy water all over my kitchen floor.
- I went to Nordstrom and Sephora and didn’t buy anything, but did ask for and got free samples of several things I want to try at home but not lay out $$$ for without knowing if I will like them.
The Bat - My parent’s house is very open, with cathedral ceilings and the bat was doing his bat thing every night, flying around scaring the crap out of my folks. We don’t know how he got in, but it most definitely needed to GET OUT. My parents are generally pretty tough, but the bat had them spooked. See a few nights earlier someone had caught and released the bat for them, and now it was back. How do we know it was the same bat? We don’t, but apparently they are real creatures of habit and like to fly, eat and sleep in the same spots every night so who knows? Sp Tom and I went down there on Saturday to find and evict the bat. For whatever reason, because I am big baby about alot of other creepy, crawly things, I am not afraid of bats. We located the bat, hidden under some (fake) English ivy, on the side of a big, decorative basket my Mom had stashed on top of some bookshelves in the living room. Neither of my otherwise pretty brave and unflappable parents wanted anything to do with the bat capture so they were hiding in the kitchen with the boys, making panini’s. I shook the basket a bit to make sure the bat was really asleep, and then I held the net “just in case” while Tom grabbed it and ran outside. He threw the basket on the ground and hightailed it back in the house. I saw the bat squirm up into the basket and try to hide. I wanted him out of the basket (which was right next to the pool where I was really dying to go for a swim) when out of the blue my father comes flying out of the house, armed with a broom. He yelled ‘Where is it?” and I showed him the bat’s wings peeking out of the basket. He started wildly swinging the broom, and I flipped the basket a few times and knocked the bat out. My Dad finished him off, and then told me my panini was ready. Just to be safe, we got a bucket with a lid and put the bat in and sealed it off. Then we had panini’s.
Disclaimer – My father is also one of the gentlest people I know, so as far as the bat-icide goes, let’s call it an isolated incident under duress. And the panini's were delicious.
Gallon of Water - Tom was outside cutting the grass. I was cooped up inside with two toddlers and a skanky kitchen floor. Filled the bucket with hot sudsy water, and the boys got their kid-mops. (Of course they have their own mops, we are freaks about the floor). Fearing they would get too much water on the floor if they had full-bucket-access (HA!) I tried to lift the bucket into the sink, when it slipped out of my hands. A gallon of water is a tremendous amount of a spill. The majority of it ran under my stove and into my pantry. Where I store a boatload of stuff, including quite a bit on the floor, in baskets and crates, which are not water proof. Let’s just leave it at this – you could eat off the floor under my stove now, and my kids learned two new words, neither of which was “Fudge!” or “Sugar!”.
Samples – I don’t want to drop $22 on a new hair product, or $60 on new perfume, just to find out later that I am just not that into it. Sephora and Nordstrom are both notoriously free with the samples, but not until AFTER the purchase, which is sort of the opposite of why samples are needed, right? When I make a purchase there, I don’t think twice about asking for samples of some of their other related stuff. But yesterday was all about window shopping and visual stimulation and waiting until pay day before buying anything other than gas, food or diapers. So I waited, sheepishly, for someone to wait on me. There I was, in all of my mini-van Mom glory, with two kids in the stroller and no visible purse or shopping bags to validate me as a prospective shopper, while around me swirled chic ladies weighed down with glitzy shopping bags and platinum cards, clearly out to do their part for the August Consumer Sales Figures. Let’s just say I was not part of the target demographic yesterday. But then, because I had to pee, and because my kids were starting to growl, I got real. Why do I let these over-lip-lined tweens and 20’s make me feel like a chump just because I want to try something before I buy it? It’s not like the samples come out of their paychecks, after all. So when the next black-clad chick with a name tag tried to swoop past me, I let stopped her dead with my “Mom in a Hurry” voice, and told her I needed samples of this, and this because I wasn’t buying them until I was sure I would like them. I think my candor caught her off guard because she not only ran to get me everything, she also threw in some of this and this too. I was so stoked by my loot, I didn’t even bother with Nordstrom.