BATS! (Or why I may never sleep ever again)

The Princess slept at her friend K’s house last night.  I went to pick her up this morning.  The girls had been building a fort in the backyard and her legs and feet were filthy.

So we came home and went upstairs to the bathroom.  I opened the cabinet and reached in to pull out a washcloth.  Remember that now.  I put my hand in the cabinet.  I was talking to the Princess so I was not looking into the cabinet when I opened it.  Thank God.

After I shut the cabinet door something in the cabinet started making a loud chirping sound.  Her Royal Highness and I just kind of looked at each other and then I continued to wash the mud off her legs.  The chirping stopped and then started again.

I told myself (and the Princess) that there was probably a cricket or a cicada in there.  Then I went downstairs and got Tom, resident Killer of Bugs to take care of it. 

So I walk with Tom into the bathroom and point out which cabinet is making noise.  Then, for reasons I will never understand, I just stood there next to the bathtub, and the Princess was in the doorway. 

Well, Tom opened the cabinet, and what flopped out onto the floor?  A BAT!  Waaah!  I screamed and jumped into the bathtub.  Why?  I don’t know I was too busy panicking to think clearly.  The Princess also screamed and ran away.  Tom kept his head and stepped on said bat.  Then he yelled at me to get out of the bathroom.  So I ran downstairs and out onto the porch.  I told HRH that it was OK and that she could run out of her room to the stairs.  She did.

The C-man meanwhile comes upstairs to see what all the commotion is about and I herd him onto the porch too. 

Tom calls down that the bat is dead.  He disposes of it, and cleans up the bathroom.  Meanwhile I am in full-on, full-bore freak out mode. 

I am deathly, pathologically afraid of bats.  They are vile, filthy, disgusting evil creatures that do not belong in my house.  I can’t even be outside at dusk when they start flying around.  So I was crying, hyperventilating, shaking, the whole nine yards.  It’s a pretty sorry sight believe me.

Of course all I can think about now is what if I had touched it or disturbed it in some way and it had bitten me?  What if this, what if that?  What if Tom hadn’t been home to do his knight in shining armor routine?  That is too horrible to even consider.

So I call the vet med office and Tom and the kids take the dead bat over there to be tested for rabies.  It didn’t bite anybody or anything, and the guy at the lab said he wouldn’t worry about exposure, and they will call us Tuesday with the results.  Not that I know what we will do if the thing did have rabies.  I guess I will try not to worry about that until Tuesday.

Meanwhile I am washing all the linens and towels that were in the cabinet in super-hot water.  I would just throw them all out but that seems excessive.  I am going to get a new mop-head (contaminated during bat clean-up) and a new bathmat (currently covering the site of the bat’s demise).  And later, once I can work up the nerve to open that cabinet again I will go medieval in there with a can of Lysol.

But in the meantime I am just trying to stay out of there.  And now I’m all itchy again.  Time to go take (another) shower.

PS – Tom wants me to clarify that he wasn’t yelling at me to leave the bathroom.  He was gently suggesting that perhaps I might be happier elsewhere.  Actually he was yelling, but I would never have heard him over all the screaming if he hadn’t been.

I love not camping

I thought perhaps I should take a moment to explain why I hate camping so much.  Why I hate camping so much, in fact, that I was willing to drop my 8-year-old son off in the wilderness with his Cub Scout den and no parent.  He was apparently the only scout who did not have a parent with him.  Oops.  That’s a little embarrassing.

So, why don’t I like camping?  Many reasons.  To start my tale of woe I will tell you about the two times I went camping as a child.

First, let me give you a little background information.  We only went twice, in consecutive summers. We were tent camping on Devil’s Lake (I think) in the Wisconsin Dells.  Our cast of characters included my mom, my brother, my sister and I, my Aunt B, and my two cousins E and P.  And my grandparents.

The details are fuzzy.  I think I have managed to block most of them.  But the one thing I do remember from our first trip is a colossal rainstorm one night.  And the tents leaked.  So we were all soaking wet, and so was all our stuff.  My mom and Aunt B spent the next day at the Laundromat trying to dry out the sleeping bags and everything else while my grandparents watched all of the kids at the campsite.  Disaster. 

The next year we tried again with the same cast of characters.  It didn’t rain this time, but my brother and both of my cousins came down with a bad case of the stomach flu and spent one whole day puking while my grandparents took my sister and I into town for the day.  That year we packed up and came home early.  It’s hard to bounce back from the pukes when you are out in the Wilderness.

So two camping trips, two disasters.  Do you see now why I am not super excited about camping? 

Plus camping is more work than staying home.  You have to put up tents, and cook everything outside.  You have to keep enough ice in your coolers so you don’t get food poisoning and enough bug spray on your body so you don’t get malaria.  Then when you are finished you have to roll up your sleeping bags, take the tent down, dump out the coolers and put all this filthy stuff back in your car.  Then when you get home you have to air it all out somewhere before you can pack it away. 

Frankly, it’s not worth it.  Not by any means.  Going on vacation should never be more work than staying home. 

I should probably take a moment here to mention that the C-man had a fabulous time and can’t wait to go camping again.  Super.

Camping

The C-man is camping with his Cub Scout den tonight.  He’s tent camping.  Tent camping.  How horrible.  He was thrilled.  They are at a state park about a half hour’s drive from here.  I am a nervous wreck.   I’m sure I won’t sleep at all tonight.

I probably should have gone with him.  Other Cub Scouts had their parents camping with them.  But the thing is, I really, really, REALLY hate camping.  So I, obviously, didn’t want to go.  I hope he is having a good time.

More thoughts on da Cubs

OK, let’s review.  The Cubs are 33 games over .500.  Wow.  They swept the Pirates last night (as well they should have) and the Cardinals and Milwaukee split a two game set in St. Louis.

So, the Cubs have a 6 game lead over Milwaukee, and a 9.5 game lead over the Cards.  We also have a magic number, but I am not going to tell you what that is because the last time I said it out loud the Cubs lost a game and the  Brewers won.  I won’t make that mistake again.  You can see for yourself here:

Cubs Magic Number

We have six games left against each of those two teams.  For each team we have three at home and three on the road.  I would be a lot happier about those games against the Brewers if we could pad our lead a little more. 

These are treacherous times to be a Cubs fan.  The temptation to get your hopes up is almost overwhelming.  But the cold hard truth is there is still a lot of baseball left to play and it ain’t over ‘til it’s over.  Cubs fans have learned that the hard way time and time again.

Maybe this will have jinxed Milwaukee.

Cubs fans know better than to speak of such things out loud too early.

 

Odds and Ends

The Princess is in a quandary. She cannot decide whether she should return to the violin and rejoin the orchestra (she played violin last year) or if she should join the band instead and play the trombone.

Sweet cracker sandwiches.

I really really hope she chooses the violin.

I suppose I could let her play both instruments but that seems like too much for a 10 year old. I know it is too much for me. I am a bad bad mommy.

***

The C-man has started taking Tae Kwon Do lessons. He had his first class last night and he loved it. And can I just tell you how adorable he looks in his little uniform? It’s killing me. I will have to post a picture soon.

***

The Brewers and the Cardinals are playing a two game series right now. The last game is tonight. Go meteor! 

***

 

Instant replay in baseball

So they’ve gone and done it.  Major League Baseball will begin using instant replay on August 28.  A date that will live in infamy.

Here’s the link.

Initially it will only be used to check home runs/foul balls/fan interference (anybody remember the Bartman?).  But you know this is the beginning of a slippery slope. Next thing you know we will have instant replay for close plays at the plate, or stolen bases.  Then we will have that Cyclops thing they use in tennis to determine balls and strikes. 

Bad calls are a part of baseball.  They always have been.  It’s a long season, and you just have to trust that over the course of the summer these things even out.  And yes, I am fully aware of the argument that while that might be true over 162 games, over five or seven games, maybe not so much.  But again, I think you have to trust the process.

The last thing in the world Baseball needs is a bunch of umpires out there second-guessing themselves.  How is that good for the game?  

 

Sweet Home Chicago

Tom took me to Chicago this weekend to celebrate our anniversary. Our anniversary was actually about a week and a half ago, but this was the weekend we had chosen for our escape.

First we dropped the kids off with my parents. This involved driving to the Cabela’s store in Hammond Indiana and transferring the children from the car they had just spent six hours in to my dad’s car where they would spend another two hours. Then I dropped my car off at my sister’s house in Oak Park and took the El into the city. I love Chicago but driving downtown makes me nervous. And the El is very pleasant.

We stayed at the Burnham Hotel, which is in the old Reliance building on the corner of State and Washington for those of you who are familiar with Chicago architecture. And even for those of you who aren’t. They gave us a lovely suite with very nice free toiletries and a lovely view of Old Navy. (Actually, it really was a very nice room). I arrived first and placed a call to our friend R to see about meeting for drinks later that night. Then I took a shower to use some of the very very nice L’Occitane shampoo et al the Hotel Burnham had provided for me.

After Tom arrived we went to the Star of Siam for dinner. We used to go there a lot when we were dating because it was convenient and it was cheap. It is still cheap, and still convenient, but it has clearly been remodeled. It is much nicer than I remember it. Then it was off to the Ale House in Old Town to meet R and drink many pitchers of Old Style. That is all I have to say about that. When we got back to the hotel room it was after midnight, and a construction crew was gearing up in the intersection just outside our window. They proceeded to spend the entire night jackhammering the pavement. Can you say loud? They finally stopped at about 4am.

We bought some earplugs Saturday morning on our way to the Art Institute.

I love the Art Institute. I always have. My family had a membership when I was in college and when I was temping downtown I kind of considered it my own personal museum.

After a couple hours of Art and Culture we were ready for some lunch. Where to? The Billy Goat of course. Remember Saturday Night Live? “cheezborger cheezborger cheezborger. No fries, chips. No Pepsi Coke”. It’s awesome. We had double cheeseburgers because that is what the counter man told us we wanted. It’s really best to listen to him.

We did a little shopping after that and then stopped at Harry Caray’s for a beer. Perfect timing! We arrived just as the Cubs game ended – Cubs Win! Holy Cow! They played “Go Cubs Go” in the bar after the game. Of course the only beer you can possibly drink at Harry Caray’s is Budweiser.

We met more of our friends, A nd R for dinner at the Park Grill. A and I have been friends since I was 16 years old. That’s a long time. We ate heirloom tomato salads and hamburgers made of Kobe beef and talked about all manner of things. We haven’t seen them in a while and it was great fun to catch up with them. We really should do it more often.

The earplugs worked a treat and we slept much better Saturday night.

Sunday I reversed the arrival procedure. El to my sister’s, then lunch at Al’s Grill. Then on to Cabela’s which meant running the gauntlet on the Tri-State. Get the children out of one car and put them in another car. Then drive home. Stop at Culvers for dinner. The end. Then, put the children to bed and sit down to watch the eagerly anticipated Valencia Grand Prix. But I already told you about that particular train wreck.

The European Grand Prix Report

NOOOO!  No!  No!  No!  I spent 56 long lonely laps yesterday trying not to

1. Cry   or
2. Throw up

 The very first Formula 1 Grand Prix in Valencia Spain and hometown hero (and my favorite) Fernando Alonso gets knocked out in the very first lap.  The first lap!  Oh I feel sick.  Williams driver Kaz Nakajima ran into the back of Alonso’s Renault and busted his rear suspension.  It was awful.  Kaz better steer clear of me for a while.  Yesterday I was threatening to fly to Belgium (site of the next race) to kick his ass.  I could do it too.  I think I might be bigger than he is.

Felipe Massa won in his Ferrari.  Hamilton was second for McLaren Mercedes and Robert Kubica was third for BMW.  Massa is now only 6 points behind Hamilton for the World Championship.  Go Massa.

Kimi Raikonnen on the other hand did not have a good race.  His engine went kablammo.  Poor guy.  He is not having a good year.  Makes you wonder what is going on with him.  Of course this is two engine failures in two races for Ferrari, so you have to wonder about them too.

They had grid boys at this race instead of grid girls.  I thought that was a nice touch.  My only question is why do the grid boys get to wear regular shorts and polo’s while the grid girls are always half naked?  Just a question.

The next race is at Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium.  It will probably rain.  

Housekeeping

Tom has taken me to Sweet Home Chicago for the weekend.  So right now I am coming to you live from thursday night.

I will give you my report of the European Grand Prix in Valencia when I return.  This is a brand spanking-new track for Formula 1.  And a road track to boot.  It should be a heck of a race.  Go Alonso go!

And of course I will also tell you all about my weekend in the Windy City.

Chinese gymnasts under scrutiny

The International Olympic Committee has asked for an investigation into the ages of some of the Chinese gymnasts.  Rumors have been flying since the games started that some of them, in particular He Kexin, Jiang Yuyuan and Yang Yilin were not 16.

You can read about it here.

I’m torn about this.  Of course I want everybody to play fair.  And if these girls really are only 14 then the Chinese team was cheating and they shouldn’t get away with it.  It isn’t fair to the other girls who really are playing by all the rules, not just the ones that are convenient.

On the other hand, if it turns out that these girls really are under 16, it also doesn’t seem fair somehow to take their medals away.  They are just cogs in the machine, and didn’t have any control over what was happening.  I’m pretty sure just refusing to perform wasn’t an option. 

Honestly, I feel for them.  I would hate to be in their shoes.