Bats and the likes

I've had bats in the belfry! Though I suppose I've always had them except this summer they came to life and we named them Boris, Owen and Steve. (There of course were more, their exact number is unknown and will remain so since what little sanity I do have I would like to retain.)
Never did have the honor of seeing the lovely creatures of the night only their excrement, which I can now readily identfy which I suppose is not a talent I'll be sharing on a regular basis if any. The oddest thing, not that any of this should be considered normal even for me, is that I never once flipped out. (No exclamation point needed.) Quite thought the entire thing was funny.

"I have bats."

"Oh, in the basement, have you seen them?"

"No, not rats, (seems everyone would think I was saying rats with a huge grin on my face...rats are not fun to have scampering about, you don't name your rats for heaven's sake!)...bats, Boris, Owen, and Steve."

My Mother refused (for some reason???) to visit me while 'the boys' were in resident. How very insulting. It's not as if they were flying about the house. And they really weren't. I could tell you some fascinating things about bats now.

They're all over New England and likely if you live there you'd be surprised at how many of you have a colony living up 'there' and you don't even know it.

They love hot, warm places, the warmer the better. (So much for my cool, cave theory.)

And they move from house to house...so my saving grace is they'll move on to my 'lovely' neighbor's, that as my son would say, would be, 'sweet'.

BatGuy (yes, that is what they call him) arrives, encloses every convievable opening to the attic...and there are more than I care to know and leaves little one way trap doors for Boris, Owen and Steve so they can get out but not back in. But I'm not concerned since I believe they've already flown the coop so to speak.
Maybe...but:

BatGuy: If there is any chance of them actually getting into your house it will be tonight.

Me: Excuse me?

BatGuy: They get confused because they can't find their way out and will attempt to actually get into the house and I can't figure out how they do it.

So, I'm told to find something to hit them with and make sure I'm wearing leather gloves which of course is no problem cos I always wear f.....g leather gloves to bed!
Naturally, the attic door (the full walk-in attic door) is in my bedroom. So, I duct tape that sucker and one other possible but unlikely entry. (But, Hell, that means I won't have to do laundry for a few days either so I can live with that excuse.) I find the leather gloves and a good old-fashioned rake, yah, that'll get em. And I'm all set should Boris, Owen or Steve want to come out and play, which of course they don't....not tonight.
Boris, deceides to visit on the second night.
I'm in the garage...smoking....cos that's where people who quit smoking and have bats and husbands and start smoking and live in the U.S., smoke....and hear this banging and wonder what the Hell (Where the Hell is my chiffon!) Christofer is doing up! I'm annoyed. (I've been caught. No one at that point knew I'd started up again but that's another blog.) Put the darn thing out and bang my way upstairs only to realize the noise is coming from the living room....

What.

Say What.

Shit.

Leather gloves and rake are upstairs and how the Hell did Boris get down here? (And how am I going to get upstairs?)

Mother's are only allowed a small 'Yike' moment. So, scamper upstairs, grab bat gear whilst wondering why there is no flying bat in my bedroom.

Batwoman heads for the living room fully armed only to find....nothing.

But damn it what is making that noise, cos there is something banging around in that room and ....it's, Boris is in the m.....f.....wall! So, I start banging on the wall and sure enough he moves and moves till I have him cornered in the bathroom. (Like) what am I going to do with him, but hey, it's 1:00am and this is starting to be fun...now I have him back in the living room, now the front closet, back to the bathroom.

I'm bored. Boris can find his way out. I'm going to bed with my rake.