A short while ago, Mayberry Mom wrote a post asking whether her readers preferred old homes or new. Most people responded with a preference for older homes, with their character and uniqueness. A few preferred new construction, and some, like me, had mixed feelings. My response to Mayberry was basically this:

I love old homes, and when my first two kids were born we lived in a house built in 1908, with all of it’s character and inherent plumbing issues. When we moved, I had two kids under 3 and a husband who was starting a company and travelling regularly. I wasn’t up for a detached garage and dealing with leaks in the basement by myself. We bought a new house, and a few years later bought a summer cottage built in 1873. I love the character of the cottage but also the convenience (everything works!) of the new house. Pros and cons on both sides!

Since our cottage was built in 1873, it doesn’t have air conditioning. Most nights are cool, though, and there are only 2 or 3 days a summer when we feel downright steamy there. I’ve considered putting in an attic fan but haven’t ever gotten around to it. This summer has been rather cool and there hasn’t been much of a need. The nights, especially, are cool and breezy, those wonderful ones that beg you pull up an extra blanket and snuggle down into a cocoon of warmth.

Last Wednesday was a night like that. I woke up at 2:50 AM, chilly, and glanced at the clock. With hours to go until daybreak, I pulled myself out of bed and grabbed an extra comforter. Just as I settled into my cozy warm space, I felt a little flicker near my knee. Hmmm. Imagination? Wind? Then I felt it near my head! I screeched and dove under the covers, while my husband jumped up and battled the bat flying around our room. He did battle with his pillow, the brave soul.

It was hard to breathe under the covers, but I held them down tight, sure that if I didn’t, the bat would find the slightest opening and swoop in to join me. Soon the battle sounds ceased and I heard my husband express disgust. Mr. Bat had gone into hiding. He was suddenly gone, hiding somewhere IN MY BEDROOM.

I ran across the hall to the kids’ room, woke all three as gently as I could with the brief explanation, “We’re going downstairs to the guest room, boys. There’s a bat in mommy’s room.” The boys not only took this news in stride, but seemed to think it was good news. Exciting! How fun! A real bat!

Left alone to hunt down the bat, my husband finally found him, won the battle, boxed him up and took him outside. The boys settled down in sleeping bags on the guest room floor while the two of us sat there, wide awake, wondering what to do next.

Perhaps I’ll reconsider my answer to Mayberry Mom. And I definitely won’t be installing that attic fan myself.

photo credit: bistrosavage