Tuesday, March 08, 2005

I Am Batman

When we bought our house last summer, my mother and I were exploring the backyard, which is surrounded by perennial flower beds. There are all sorts of interesting things about my backyard, and one of them that drew our attention was a fifteen-foot pole at the back fenceline topped with a dark birdhouse on top. My mother said, "that's a purple martin house". So I bought some suet and hung it in the yard, and didn't think any more about it.

This weekend I was out poking around and went to get a better look at the pole and birdhouse, when I made a discovery: It's not a purple martin house.

It's a bat house.

I know all about how bats are not bloodsuckers, that they are good for the garden because they eat bugs, that they don't try and dive-bomb your head unless they are inside and panicked, etc. And I always liked the idea of bathouses--I'm all for helping out unfairly maligned wildlife.

Apparently I am all talk, because this creeps me out. I don't know whether or not there are actually bats in there, and I don't want to go and shine the flashlight in the bottom to find out, I really don't.

I don't know where this squeamishness has come from. I once found a bat in my apartment, skittering around on the floor. I scooped it up in a shoebox and threw it outside. I think it had been poisoned somehow, but it didn't scare me (my cats at the time, Suki and Sasha, were another matter altogether. They were brave hunters stalking their prey, alerting me to the bat in the first place when it moved and they both dashed back out of the room and under the bed). I don't want to look now, and I don't know what I'll do if I find out there are some living there. When did I become such a wimp?

I titled this I Am Batman because it reminded me of my favorite commercial ever, for Snickers. A coach runs up to a football player getting up after getting clocked on the field, and asked him, are you all right? Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am? The player answers appropriately, and then the coach askes him his name. There is a pause, and he answers, very seriously, "I am Batman". I don't know why, but I still crack up, years later, when I think of it. I know you kind of had to be there, but I am laughing to myself as I type this. Perhaps it's the Nyquil.

If you want to see the ad, it is here.

1 comment:

michelle said...

This comment doesn't really have to do with this post. I have been reading your blog for a little while now and just wanted to let you know what a strong woman I think you are. My daughter was born with bilateral hip dysplasia , but we have not been through HALF of what you and your family is going through and will go through in the future. She was in a harness 23 out of 24 hours for her first 3 mos and then while she slept until she was 9 mos. We will continue to have visits to the orthopaedist, but for now it looks as if everything is fine.

I too have had to deal with all the irritating questions from curious strangers and even my own family members and it's nice to know there are others out there that feel my pain.

Your little girl is beautiful (I love the pic on your profile!)and you and your family are truly blessed. :)