With baseball or holiday decorating, all it takes is a bat and some balls

By Tiber

To save money this year, Dad has put a ban on buying any new decorations for Christmas. Of course, we’re very lucky since we not only have a lot of old ornaments but we also have a lot of trees on the estate, so we’ll be fine.

This weekend, we were all dispatched into the woods to bring back lots of tree branches to get that “boughs of holly” thing going for the doors and mantelpieces. Dad assumed most of us would get bored and wander off but no one did and, soon, we had a huge mound of tree branches filling the back hall.

I’m not sure how much holly we had in it but something was in it because the whole stack started moving. Dad, forever channeling Teddy Roosevelt, marched right in and began heaving away the top boughs.

And a big bat flew out.

Dad ducked as fast as the rest of us did. I think what people are not supposed to do when a bat is flying towards them is move. What’s the first thing all human beings do when a bat is flying towards them? Move!

Of course, in our case, we had some people running screaming away from the bat, some people running screaming towards the bat, the dogs wanting more than life to play snout-hockey with the bat and the cats doing flips and howling, “BIRD!!!”

Thankfully, the bat managed to change course and fly right out the back entrance and away from all of us, squeaking all the way.

Iris Nell said he was saying, “And a Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

That’s not what I heard. I distinctly made out what that bat was articulating, It was, “Dear God, please let me make it to Times Square in time for New Year’s Eve. That, at least, will be a lot more calm and subdued than this.”

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