We had a couple exciting (I guess) things happen this weekend. Sunday evening my husband and I were standing in our kids' room when I looked out the window and saw dark brown smoke pouring out of our garage.
My husband, who's on the fire department, ran outside. The rat rod he had been welding earlier was on fire. Fortunately he was able to put it out himself with the garden hose. If one of our neighbor's had called the fire department he'd have never lived it down! All I could picture was his pager going off, announcing that a fire had been spotted-at our address!
The following morning, at about a quarter to five, I was woken up by a bat in our room! It was circling above our bed, swooping down at us. I woke up my husband, we jumped out of bed, turned on the light and shut the door (so it couldn't get into the baby's room.) Then we waited for it to land.
We waited for it to land while we crouched on the floor next to the bed, my husband holding a towel, me holding a pillow. Our two-year-old was asleep in our room and every time it swooped down by her and me I would hold up said pillow to fend it off, (and maybe make some slightly loud, scared noises. You know, just to frighten it off.)
Eventually it landed in my closet. My husband grabbed at it with the towel, it started squealing, he chucked the towel, three hangers and one of my shirts out the window.
Except it turned out he didn't have the bat.
It started swooping around the room again. I was swinging a towel this time, trying to get it to fly out the window. Eventually I hit it with the towel and it fell. I threw the towel over it, again it started squealing. I scooped it up and threw towel and bat out the window. (I then went outside and shook out the towel to make sure it had gotten loose, and brought everything back in the house.)
During all of this, my two-year-old never even moved. (Or, as my sister said, "she never batted an eye." Ha ha.)