i grew up on a farm, and in an old farm house. i have many memories as a child of being woken in the night by either my brother or my parents shouting about a bat in the house. i still remember hiding under a red afghan that my grandmother had made, peeking through the holes watching a bat fly around the room with my dad in chase wielding a tennis racket. at the time, i was frightened, but now, i think i would just laugh my **** off.
my brother and i would also go on "bat hunts". we would make torches and go use slingshots or whatever weapons of destruction we could find to attempt to kill them. we never, not once, even winged one. oh well, the quests of youth.