Somewhere along the way, in my short but very interesting life, I became the poster child for Murphy's Law, and apparently, once this law attaches itself, you can never, ever shake it. Yep, it's true. Murphy has followed me clear across the Atlantic Ocean to the other side of existence. I dare not mention this to those closest to me, for I will surely take the blame for every disaster that happens within a 100-mile radius. Just last week, after we received nearly 10 inches of snow, my neighbor said to me, "This is so strange! In all my life, I've never seen this much snow in our area!" I just smiled and nodded, knowing good and well that Murphy had once again reared his ugly head. Unfortunately, my secret was exposed tonight, when a friend came over for pizza and a "Grey's Anatomy" marathon. You'd better sit down for this one.

We were in the middle of season 1, episode 3, when Troy came downstairs and informed me that there was a bat in my room. No, not the kind of bat that major league baseball players use to score winning runs. The kind of bat that flies erratically around your bedroom, leaving you to wonder just how quickly you can maneuver your way down 3 flights of stairs. The kind of bat that you expect to ward off with a string of garlic and a wooden cross. Now, pray tell, what is a woman to do when there is a bat flying around in her bedroom?

First, I called my friend, Jill, and asked her husband for advice. He said, "Do you have a net?" I promptly hung up the phone. I've never even caught butterflies with a net; I'm not going after a flying bat. No, thank you. Next, I called our commander, but he had the nerve to be out on a date with his wife! How inconvenient. We then decided to call Security Forces at Ramstein, who forwarded my call to Security Forces at Vogelweh, who informed me that if the bat should happen to morph into a vampire, please call them back. Gee, thanks. In my desperation, I ran across the street to my neighbor's and played a frantic game of charades, trying to explain to him about this unwarranted visitor. He just laughed, grabbed his gardening gloves, and headed over to my house.

By this time, the creature had made its way downstairs and was now flying around the living room. Christina and the kids were huddled on the floor in the kitchen, Grace was screaming at the top of her lungs, and Troy was yelling, "Let's hit it with the broom!" I joined them on the floor, only to see my very calm neighbor walk across the living room, open my patio door, and usher the bat outside.

I'm sure that he and his wife, along with the entire Kaiserslautern Security Forces officers, are still laughing at me. But that's OK. If good 'ol Murphy and I can bring a little joy and happiness into the lives of others, then we are honored. But honestly, Murphy, isn't it about time you picked on someone else??