Friday, November 13, 2009

“The Joy of Nature” or “When Birds Attack”

My wife and I had gone through this song and dance before. We open the door to our house last week only to find the tell tale evidence that a bird had broken into the house yet again. We saw bird-poop on the tile floor and smears on the glass sliding door from the bird slamming into it trying to escape. It wasn’t a matter of if, but a matter of where the bird was hiding in the house.

I being the consummate “Manly-Man” told my wife to stay near the door as I Elmer Fudded my way around the house looking for the bird. I didn’t hear any chirping or flapping but after about 15 minutes, I was ready to tap out. I figured, “maybe he didn’t break in.”

WRONG! As I’m heading to the couch, the bird takes flight 2 feet away from me, and I spring into DEFCON 5 mode. I yell for my wife to open the door and get outside. I then call for a weapon, and my wife answers, “There’s a broom in the closet.”

Armed with a broom and my wits, I proceed to poke, prod and yell at this stupid bird to stop slam into window and fly out of the friggin’ door! Now mind you, I haven’t run since…5th grade. I’m a taller guy with some size, so as opposed to having to run away, I prefer to intimidate.

Unfortunately, this bird preferred to fly around the house from room to room and duck and dodge and flap around the house. Since the bird gave chase, it required me to run upstairs and downstairs, in closets and out of closets. After the first trip upstairs, I started shutting doors to keep from drawing the bird back upstairs. At this point I’m angry, annoyed, and covered in sweat. Then the bird takes refuge in the corner of my dining room and perches on the crown molding. Then I remember that I have an equalizer…from the groundhog incident…THE B-B GUN!

I dart upstairs and grab that beloved pellet gun that my finally even my flightless odds against my winged nemesis. I then took it back downstairs and allowed those little green pellets to do the convincing for me. So I was comically armed like Dirty Harry and King Arthur, the bird finally left our humble abode. I went upstairs and collapsed in a heap. Running Sucks!

Sidebar: Ladies…? Why is it we have to be aggressive “Manly-Men” when danger rears its ugly head, but when we’re doing our duty to defend your honor when another guy comes sniffing around, we’re being “ridiculous.” One minute you want us to be the cultured, sensitive, guy who shares his emotions and feelings and the next you want us to unleash our inner caveman.