Leathery, Furry, Twittery Beast from the Depth of You-Know-Where

I have an irrational fear of birds. I don't mind having them around if they are outside and far away and not big. Or if they are in a cage in another room. But that's all I can tolerate. I don't know what started it. As far as I know, I have never had a traumatic bird experience. The first I knew of it was a day a bird flew into a friend's open window, and I suddenly dove under their counter screaming, "AHHH! AHHH! AHHH! AHHH!" without really knowing why. Naturally, this fear extends to bats.

This morning I was innocently making coffee and pouring cereal when I heard the yelling. I couldn't make out what Buddy was saying, but he definately would not yell that early in the morning if it wasn't important. I ran upstairs. Buddy said, "Mom! There's something flying in here!" "Where?" "Right there! See it?"

I think the reason I didn't see it is that I was expecting it to by bug sized. And I am not proud of this next part:

I ran screaming downstairs, by myself, and locked myself in the laundry room.

I heard Josh yell, "bring me some tools!" All I could think was, "we don't have any tennis rackets! No tennis rackets!" so I grabbed the first think I could think of in my addled mind: a tupperware container. I ran back upstairs. Josh not-so-calmly asked what was wrong with me, told me to suck it up, and requested a broom. I hid curled up in a trauma ball around the corner while Josh pinned it down with a broom. Then I heard it. The same evil twittery noise that woke me up this morning.

While in my own bed.

I don't see how I can possible sleep again. Ever.

I apologized to Buddy. I said, "Buddy, I'm really sorry for running away screaming and leaving you alone with the bat. I should have at least grabbed you and taken you with me. I'm really embarrassed." He graciously replied, "that's ok, Mom. I know you're afraid of things that fly. Even though I don't know why. It was just a little bat."

Thanks for having my back, son.