For several months a mysterious sound has been emanating from beneath our porch. The first night we tried to ignore it and assumed that it was a rodent (notice how accepting we are of rats sharing our house.) Then, it happened the following night and it was loud. It was a rumbling sound, a boom, a persistent rumbling booming sound. At 1AM, armed with a flashlight, I tried to figure out what was going on beneath the porch. I stood outside listening. Silence. I went back inside, turned out the lights and went to bed. Rumble. Boom! Rumble. I pulled the covers over my head and decided if the beast was only going to make noise then I could endure it, but if it tried to enter the house then I would need to get up and destroy it with my bare hands. I lay in bed listening. Boom. Rumble. It sent shivers up my spine. Why was it so loud?
This became a nightly occurrence (that eveyone except myself slept through.) I would go to bed and fall asleep to the rumbling boom of an unidentified monster inhabiting the crawlspace. Some nights, spiked with the insanity of twin-induced sleeplessness, fear and panic would take over as I lay in bed hypothesizing a variety of horrific scenarios that could produce a rumbling boom. Rats are fine, but I couldn't allow a serial killer use my crawlspace for storage. Rumble. Boom. I went outside again with my flashlight accompanied by Lula and Buckley. Again, I found nothing and was unable to locate the sound. I came to terms with the idea that I would just live with the beast unless it decided to come indoors.
Then, just a few nights ago, the sound started up again. I decided to take another look. I grabbed my flashlight and looked under the porch. Nothing. Then, I saw movement. The large plastic vapor barrier started to move. Boom. Rumble. The entire 8 foot piece of plastic was now bouncing up and down. 'It must be huge,' I thought, 'and maybe full of bloodlust.' It stopped again. I watched in horror as one end of the plastic started to peel back. The beast began to emerge...all 10 inches of ferocious juvenile armadillo.
This became a nightly occurrence (that eveyone except myself slept through.) I would go to bed and fall asleep to the rumbling boom of an unidentified monster inhabiting the crawlspace. Some nights, spiked with the insanity of twin-induced sleeplessness, fear and panic would take over as I lay in bed hypothesizing a variety of horrific scenarios that could produce a rumbling boom. Rats are fine, but I couldn't allow a serial killer use my crawlspace for storage. Rumble. Boom. I went outside again with my flashlight accompanied by Lula and Buckley. Again, I found nothing and was unable to locate the sound. I came to terms with the idea that I would just live with the beast unless it decided to come indoors.
Then, just a few nights ago, the sound started up again. I decided to take another look. I grabbed my flashlight and looked under the porch. Nothing. Then, I saw movement. The large plastic vapor barrier started to move. Boom. Rumble. The entire 8 foot piece of plastic was now bouncing up and down. 'It must be huge,' I thought, 'and maybe full of bloodlust.' It stopped again. I watched in horror as one end of the plastic started to peel back. The beast began to emerge...all 10 inches of ferocious juvenile armadillo.
