Well... when there's something strange in the neighborhood, who do you call? The Ghostbusters! It's not a ghost so I ask my dear husband to go take a look because it's driving me bonkers. Every time I hear something, my blood freezes. So my dear husband gathers up the courage to climb the attic with my FIL right behind him. I tell husband to be careful that the mouse doesn't bite his nose as soon as he pops his head up the attic door. He thinks twice and decides to put on a mask and a hat just in case the little critter decides to kung fu kick his face.
The husband lifts the door to the attic and peeps his head in but sees an empty attic. I quickly shouted "No! Take a closer look because there's definitely something making noise in the attic." He lifts the insulation and... woah, did his voice just go up an octave higher? He yells out "Oh my... there's ALOT" and runs back down. My FIL starts laughing and asks what the problem was. Apparently, it's not just 1 or 2 mice in the attic. It's a whole posse. He said when he lifted the insulation, all he saw was a whole lot of blackness scurrying around. I'm getting goose bumps just replaying the scenario in my head.
So the DH and FIL come back down to figure out how to get rid of these little pesky creatures that decided to declare our attic a mice summer resort. My FIL insists on going back up and banging the insulation with a broom... and hope to kill them all that way. Shutter. So, the DH can't sit back knowing his dad is going to go up the attic. This time, he's armed with gloves, some fancy flashlight that stands on a tripod, and a thick branch. But while he's arming himself, my 85 year old FIL is scurrying up the ladder into the attic with a broomstick. I'm begging him to wait for my husband and he says ok but he's already deep in the attic somewhere. I can hear him banging the broomstick. DH is running in now and climbs the attic after his dad. I can hear them telling me to tap the ceiling of our bedroom. So, I go in and climb on a chair and tap the ceiling with a hanger. I hear a WHOLE LOT of scurrying... and I know it's not my DH or the FIL. What the heck? Is there some sort of mice convention up there?
The DH and FIL come down with a garbage bag and they say it's not mice up in the attic. Oooookayyyy... then, what is it? Chipmunks? I've seen one pesky one keep popping up in the garden out back. No. Holy smokes Batman... we have BATS! WHAT?!?!?!?!?! Bats? Well, I hope they're all in the garbage bag you brought down with you. But no siree. There are too many to catch. Can't even guestimate. Ok. I'm ready to piss in my pants now.
So the two men try to come up with a plan while I go online to figure out what we can do. Apparently, during this time of the year, you really can't do much. The babies are too young to fly and you have to let them escape. Killing them is out of the question. They are protected by the law. You can get a hefty fine or worse, jail time for killing them. So, all we can do is wait till the end of the summer when they can leave one by one. And, try to create a one way door so that they don't come back. I'm all about bats and they're contribution to society but having them as housemates is well... driving me batty.
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