Enter one of the biggest moral dilemmas of my mothering career. Pack Meeting is normally on a Tuesday. Or a Wednesday. I can never really remember which one, it is just definitely never on a Thursday. Especially not Thursday, March 22, the opening night of Hunger Games, for which my friends and I have had tickets for months and planned an epic Girls' Night Out. I realized the conflict the night before, and it was a huge conflict in my heart as well. Dallin was looking so forward to getting his award. I was looking so forward to my GNO. Dallin could get his award in April. I could see the Hunger Games later, by myself, lonely, cold and afraid. But my son... my little son must be my priority. So I forfeited my ticket and went to Pack Meeting. I was weeping in my heart on the way over, when Dallin said, "Mom, I woke up this morning and thought this was going to be a bad day. But then I remembered I was getting my award tonight, and I knew it would be a good day." So, that made it all worth it right there. That, and the joyful fellow who is peeking over my shoulder in the pictures. Seriously, how can Scouts not be fun with leaders like that?
|See him back there?
|He's still there!
Now on to the Family Bat. If you know me very well, you know I love bats. It all started in the second grade when I found a bat hanging under the window of my second grade class. My teacher captured the bat in a jar and turned it into the Class Pet. I was kind of a nobody back then, if you can imagine that (ha), and I was suddenly catapulted to second grade stardom, all thanks to a furry little flying creature. For this I have always been grateful to bats and felt somewhat indebted to them.
Not to make this the Longest Post Ever or anything, but I decided years ago that if I was ever faced with the decision of which animal to be, I would definitely be a bat. Specifically, a fruit bat. Think of the benefits. A mammal, who can fly. They mate for life. Care for their young. Eat fruit, for crying out loud. How great would that life be? Okay, so it's basically my life right now, except for the flying part, but I really think being able to fly would enhance my life in so many ways. Anyway.
You can imagine my joy last week when Jason and Luke reported that we had a bat living under our deck! Our very own bat, or Family Bat, as it came to be known. They had seen the Family Bat a few times when they suddenly turned on the light and opened the door. I didn't really believe it because it was just too good to be true, but then one night I snuck down with Luke and flung the door open and turned on the light and there he was! The Family Bat! Flapping around, darting this way and that, a definite bat of our own!
|I tried to get a few pictures, but he was too fast, or maybe I was too slow. It didn't matter. We all knew the Family Bat was there.
Until tonight. Luke and I performed our nightly ritual of sneaking down to see the Family Bat, me with camera in hand and hope in my heart. Except something was amiss. We flung open the door, but instead of flying, he was sitting (hey... bats don't sit! they hang...). And he didn't move. He let me capture the following shot on my camera, before taking off and floating and flitting this way and that, just like a bat. The bat that he was not.