To a certain degree, everything in life seems normal until you have a chance to escape the circumstances and reflect on the weirdness.
I traveled the country with my family for a season, sharing music and ideas with audiences in coffee houses and churches. That in itself might be viewed as bizarre. But we were together, loved each other, attempted to maintain civility with the world around us–and laughed a lot.
So it didn’t seem particularly odd to arrive in rural Nebraska at a church in the middle of nowhere, which had invited us to come and share, and set us up to lodge in the fellowship hall so that we could save money on a motel (which did not exist anywhere nearby.)
We were grateful.
I should have known there was something wrong when we arrived at the location, set up our equipment, and I went to the men’s restroom to urinate. Totally preoccupied, I failed to look at where I was peeing and suddenly discovered there was a bat which was fairly upset over my splashings.
Yes, I peed on a bat.
I quickly departed, figuring it was just an aberration. But that night, as we lay on our makeshift mats on the floor, we began to hear the scratching, creaking and high-pitched squealing of creatures directly above our heads, in the ceiling.
It was very disconcerting–a soundtrack from the worst horror movie you’ve ever heard.
I suddenly realized that the bat I had pissed off–or pissed on, depending on how you look at it–had friends in high places.
We were surrounded.
Matter of fact, turning on the lights we discovered there was a hole in the ceiling where the bats were obviously finding an exit to fly around and check out the rest of the building.
We went on a frantic search to find a place where we would be safe. After careful inspection, we found that the only place in the building that was closed off and private seemed to be the nursery–and only a small portion of that room.
So we all huddled together in the midst of the bassinets, stuffed our ears with cotton, covered our heads with blankets and tried to sleep, praying for morning.
Needless to say, we checked out early … just in case the bats were getting up for continental breakfast.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix
Mr. Kringle’s Tales … 26 Stories ‘Til Christmas
“The best Christmas stories I’ve ever read!”
From the toy shop to the manger, an advent calendar of Christmas stories, beginning on November 30th and ending on Christmas morning.
We need a good Christmas this year.
Mr. Kringle’s Tales will help you make it so.