There is a bat pissing on my face!

This is an AUTOMATIC google translation of the original post published in spanish “un murciélago meándome en la cara”. 

The other day I went to bed around 8 in the afternoon, as usual in these parts. Let no one be alarmed. It is not that I get fried just lying down, but that I usually read for an hour before my eyelids drop.

So there I was, in my bed, under the mosquito net reading quietly when suddenly, I notice that droplets start to fall on my face! Shit, I think jumping, the bloody bat is pissing on my face !.

You will wonder why the “bloody bat”. And it is that Frank, Matilda and I share the house – on a bed and breakfast basis – with a very persistent bat. We put it out one day, and he sneaks back home two days later. As soon as you see that we leave a slit open, let’s go. It has become a kind of game on both sides. Let’s see who is more persistent. At the moment, we are winning by a couple of games. And it is that Frank, in terms of persistence, does not win even Forrest Gump.

The fact is that we had spent a couple of nights sharing a room, which in itself is annoying. Not because one feels watched. But because the guy flies over the mosquito net as soon as you get into bed. So you are reading the typical action book. The killer stalking his victim in the shadows and … Flap Flap Flap. Flap Flap Flap. The bat doing a recon pass. Wow. You try to focus again on the book. The victim senses that they are following her. The heart begins to beat rapidly and … FLAP FLAP FLAP !!! Clubs! Is it not going to leave me alone?

But let’s return to history. Anyway, I was reading that night in peace and silence, for a change. You could only hear the clatter of rain on the roof and some dog howling in the distance. Come on, normal. When suddenly I notice the droplets falling on my face and I think! This is how far we’ve come. I really can’t tolerate this!

I get up, grab my flashlight and aim it at the ceiling to locate the culprit and throw (literally) brooms or towels at him. But I don’t see anything. I turn on the overhead lights and still can’t locate the culprit.

Until suddenly, I drop a drop just, right, right in the middle of the head. I search for the source of the drop with the flashlight and, to my surprise I find that the drops come directly from the ceiling. FRAAAAAAAAAANK! Its raining on the bedroom! (It rains in the room). Frank who was downstairs washing the dishes yells back at me. What? That it is raining inside the room, I repeat with the same words. I think he thinks it’s another of my weird English phrases or one of my metaphors, but he slowly walks up the stairs just in case.

Indeed, we have leaks! RIGHT on top of the bed. Wow, we’re going to have to move the bed or sleep in another room. We ruled out sleeping in another room because the beds are smaller and Frank would basically have to sleep with his feet dangling. So we opted to move the bed. This would not have a greater impact if it were not for the fact that the bed is made of solid wood from the tropics and weighs more than a pregnant elephant. Come on, there is no way to lift it and it crawls with a lot of effort.

Frank and I prepare to tackle the task. We look like two Sumo fighters. Each located in the opposite corner of the bed. Legs bent and looking into each other’s eyes. 1,2,3 come on HUHUHUHU. Push. Push. Push. Let’s go. Let’s go!.

We move the bed 3 cm. Come on come on. That this goes like a shot! Let’s go again. 1,2,3, AHHHHHHHHHHHRGGGG. Tension muscles. Feet firmly anchored to the floor, while we push the bed with our whole body. Others 3 cm.

Half an hour later and sweating like chickens, we managed to move the bed to the other wall. Exhausted, we install the mosquito net again, we put dry sheets on, and finally I can lie down again and pick up my book. Where was it? ah yes, the heart begins to beat rapidly …

By then, it had long since stopped raining outside and inside the room.

And of the bat, we have not heard again.

The elephant in its new location

 


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