I took my four year old to her first game inside Fenway Park last night. She's been to Fenway once before, but we never went inside. This time I had one pretty good loge seat (box 146) and decided to take my girl in. I was a little worried they'd hassle me to get her a ticket which I was willing to do ($20 for a standing room ticket), but there was no trouble at all. They probably figure any child small enough to be carried in can come on.

They've done a nice job changing the atmosphere around the park and making it fun to hang out there - a band, a man on stilts, balloon animals, Wally the Green Monster (who my daughter is simultaneously terrified of and fascinated with). I always arrive early and park on Bay State Road. Thank you, BTW, to whoever put a fake orange "SUV Driver" ticket on my windshield with such helpful fun "facts" as "If everyone driving an SUV drove a car instead, we could completely end our use of Middle Eastern oil." (One wonders what the excuse was before SUV's.) I tore it into little strips and sprinkled the pieces along the banks of the Charles River in your name.

It was a long game, and we only stayed until about the fourth inning, which was about 9PM and late enough for a four year old. Food eaten included: 2 Fenway Franks, 1 bag popcorn, 1 order nachos, lots of water.

So then I get home and I'm hanging out here getting caught up on some email...when I hear a sort of scratching sound in the kitchen. I think, "OK, mouse...I'll get you..." But no, I come out of my office and this guy almost flies into my face:

Yeah, a freakin' bat. As you may remember, I did discover a gaggle of bats in my attic some time ago, but I've been checking for them and haven't seen them since then. I have no idea where this guy came from, or how he got into the main part of the house. Long story short, I chased him around the house, ducking and jiving, with a cardboard box to try to catch him. Finally he disappeared, although I think I know where he is...he's tonight's project.