Daily freewrite: 7:30am disclaimer: spelling and grammatical errors have not been corrected.
Stick to Raquetball, the Tennis lessons are not working!
Last night Ruth Cox wrote about the attack of the neighborhood bats. This morning she wrote a poem about her love of bats. It prompted me to remember this adventure. Let me first start by saying that my husband back in the 80's played quite a bit of racketball with his friends. Since he was enjoying it he thought he would take up tennis, as it would be a good skill to have in the business world.
Now, flash forward to one dark night. we were watching a scary movie on tv in the dark. Our bedroom door was open. the hall light was on. The scene on the tv, a women in her kitchen looking out into the dark..you know something is lurking in the dark..the music begins to get louder and louder. My husband says "there it is" I, watching tv, say "where where?" pulling the blanket just below my eyes. He says 'it's coming in" I still, watching tv, but not seeing anything in the dark window say, "where, I can't see it" he says there, there. I still can't see the killer in the tv kitchen window, but my fear is in my throat, ready to scream. and there it was "a black thing" flying into our room and he yells "a bat". I flip the covers over my head.
7:35, (though I was done with my 5 minutes, I will finish my story and not leave you hanging.)
He gets his tennis racket and starts to swing. miss...flying..miss..flying .miss... I yell out, "I'm not paying anymore money for tennis, you stink at it." I run out of the room, he shuts the door and it sounds like a brawl is happening in my bedroom, lamps falling, tv bunny ears dropping. finally, he comes out and says that he ended up opening the window and popping the screen and the bat flew out. Yeah, probably laughing all the way out.
In defense to my husband seemingly poor tennis skills, bats have extraordinary radar to avoid man with bad tennis swing. My husband also switched to golf that summer. Thank goodness for my furnishings that another bat did not enter our home.