Sparrow The Rod, Spoil the Wuss!

I was attacked!

I'm still shaking.

Quirkyloon's agenda for Friday morning. Got up. Peed. Washed hands. Went to make sure QS#2 (six-year-old) was getting ready for school and of course, he wasn't. "Let's see should I watch SpongeBob or get ready for school like Mom told me to do." I think you know the answer. And yes, I turned off the t.v. and reminded him of the rule: "No television until you are completely ready."

After that, I harassed QS#1 (twelve-year-old) to brush his teeth, because he hadn't done it ALL day yesterday. (How's he supposed to impress the girls with his KILLER breath?) He brushed, Axed, and left. (The AXE fragrance is sill lingering some five hours later.)

Quirky Hubs and I loaded up QS#1 and car-pool girl (who lives across the street) and drove them to school. I drove Quirky Hubs to work (his truck is in the shop and yes it is a bummer being a one-car family).

I came home, showered, shaved, farted, then went to my doctor's appointment. For $55.00 (my copay and yes, we have a money tree growing in our backyard HA!) he told me all my scans were basically okay, except one lesion on my hip bone had gotten larger. "It's par for the course." Hmm, I wonder if he had Tiger Woods on his mind. Anyhoo, he's not worried? So I'm not worried.

Then I went shopping. I won't bore you with all those details. *smile*

I came home and entered with bags in hand only to see a suspicious bloody, black, and feathery pile on my dining room floor.

What the feather?

I took a closer look.

It was BIRDKILL!

Dang dogs! Killed a sparrow and left it on my dining room floor!

I was NOT happy.

But wait! There's more.

I spoke sharply to Maisy (one of the mutts) and pointed at the bird and said, "OUT!" Of course, she just looked at me and lazily plopped her canine butt on the floor and started winking her eyes to start dozing off!

No, no, NO!

"Maisy!"

Head and ears perked up for a nanosecond then flopped down again.

About that time, I heard the first of the terrifying flutters.

Dagnabbit! There was still another bird in the house?! And now?

It was flying TOWARDS me!

So what did I do?

I shrieked and screamed bloody murder.

I kept waving away at my head, hoping it wouldn't try landing on my flat-head! (Because it does make a nice landing spot.)

Flutter number two, he flew away from me.

I screamed.

Flutter number three, he flew at me again.

I shrieked and waved my hands at my head.

Flutter number four, he flew at me again.

I screamed.

Flutter number five, he flew into the kitchen!

I screamed waving my hands in the air!

Flutter number six, he flew onto the dining room table.

The dogs became extra alert.

I screamed (of course) and off he flew around the room.

By this time I'm worried that my neighbors were calling 911 because it was sounding like somebody was torturing me. I grabbed a grocery bag that had a 16 oz. glass jar of La Victoria salsa (tasty). Then the fluttering happened again!

Petrified by the oncoming fluttering assaults, I waved my hands around my head with the grocery bag in hand and began my own personal assault to my head with the salsa jar.

I was too terrified to take the time to set the bag down. He was diving at me, I was running, waving, and continued beating my head up with the salsa jar.

Finally, after he flew away from me, I ran to the Arcadia door and opened it. I ran to the front door and just before I got there, I thought I heard another flutter, so I whipped my head around and started the waving/banging my head business for a few seconds before realizing it was a false alarm. I opened the front door and left it wide open. I ran to my bedroom and called my husband at work. He listened to me freaking out and told me that it would be okay.

But there's still the birdkill on the floor! He told me to sweep it up into the dustpan.

I don't think I can.

Yes, I am a wuss.

A major wuss.

And my head hurts.

Badly.




B.S. One bird was harmed and one bird was set free during the production of this post. Quirky wishes she had grown up on a farm so she wouldn't be such a wuss about birds, mice, and other critters that are probably more afraid of her than she is of them.

B.S.S. I'm still shaking and my head hurts! I whacked it hard, several times! La Victoria wicked good taste and wicked hard when hit against the head.