At 1:30 am, my husband tapped me on the shoulder (at first I thought he was looking for some lovin’, lol). He said “we have a bat.”
I said “huh?”
"We have a bat." This time he stated it more slowly.
The slowness didn't help, "Wha??"
"We have a bat. In the house."
"What kind of bat?" I was still holding out hope that he was making a joke about our son's bear with the Batman suit.
"A bat bat."
"How do you know?"
"I was trampled by a cat while she chased it."
"Where is it now?"
"I assume over there where the cats are staring."
"Oh." It took a bit for it all to sink in.
Once I fully woke up and saw both cats sitting on the dresser, staring at the bat at the window, I fetched a small bucket from the kitchen, and turned on the light. This made the bat fly in circle for what seemed to be 12 minutes (I’m sure it was under a minute, though.) Mr. Deplume was still lying on the bed, not quite sure what to make of the situation.
I realized he could keep this up for an hour or more (the bat, not my husband), so I started trying to hit it with a Captain America comic (first thing I saw on the floor). As it turns out, it is very hard to hit a bat with a rolled up comic.
After a couple of minutes of watching me flail about, he snaps out of his stupor and stations himself on the other side of the bed with his pillow. After a couple of tries, he bonked the bat with the pillow, knocking it to the floor, half under the dresser. I grab the bucket, scoop him up with a magazine (full-sized this time), and we deposit the little guy back outside. I am happy to report that he hopped right up, and he flew off toward the neighbor’s house.
Note: it is very hard to go back to sleep at 2AM after chasing a bat out of the house. Also, when you wake up again at 3 AM, you'll be intently listening, to see if the bat had brought a friend who was still indoors. I like them better outdoors. Much better out there, eating skeeters. I hate skeeters, regardless of location.