swoop

Yesterday, I was sitting on the couch in the middle of the afternoon watching Big Bang Theory Season 1 and eating leftover chocolate frosting out of the can.

Thank you, pms.

Suddenly, there's a black blob flying in the room.

Thinking at first that we were just seeing things, the kitten goes back to her luxurious life of napping and I scoop up more frosting. But then it happened again.

And this isn't just any flying, but flying so low, I'm afraid whatever it is will make a nest in my hair.

I grab the cell phone from the coffee table, run into the den and slam the door closed. Dialing my husband at the office, the conversation goes something like this:

J: "Yes, dear?"

Me: "It's either a bird or a bat and it's flying around the living room!!!" (Got straight to the point on that one!)

J: "Could you tell which?"

Me: "I'm holed up in the den and I didn't stop to examine it, thankyouverymuch." My voice is now nearing a pitch I'm pretty sure only dogs and my husband can hear.

J: "Okay, all you need to do is get the broom, wait for it to stop flying and kill it."

After taking a second to remember that, thanks to what the boys call a "Secret Passageway" I didn't need to leave the den to get the broom, I have the broom in my hand and am sorta not really not at all prepared to do what I have to do.

Yep, till I open that door all of about 2 inches, see the kitten on top of the television chattering away at the intruder and realize that it's STILL FLYING around the room.

I slam the door shut again and inform my husband in perfect dog pitch that I can NOT under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES get close enough to that thing to kill it.

He then offers to call and see if our neighbor, Chuck, is home and if he can come over and remedy my situation.

Thank goodness Chuck was home and willing. It was getting close to time for the boys to arrive home and they don't need to see me in the fetal position on the floor of the den.

I've left the back door open thinking Chuck would arrive that way, but he comes to the front. I close the door behind me in my panic and for a second think that we are locked out.

My brain had gone to Tahiti, obviously.

Once we go around to the back of the house and get in, I handed Chuck the broom, scooped up the kitten and went into the den. Three smacks of the broom and the back door opened and closed.

The job was done.

Of course, Jon was still laughing at me when he arrived home around 45 minutes later.

He will pay.