The bird

I hate birds. Anyone who has known me long enough knows this little fact. They freak me out. Birds are vermin carrying, disease ridden flying rodents. I don't like the quick way they dart around, I don't like the way they tilt their heads, I don't even like the way they sound. They make me nervous.

Yesterday I was heading down into the basement with one of my daily loads of laundry when a bit of quick movement caught the corner of my eye. I turned, and this evil disgusting bird comes flying at me from Bill's workbench. I dropped the load of laundry and ran screaming back up the stairs...just like any sane person would.

I called Bill:

C - "You have to come home...there is a BIRD in the basement."

B - "How in the hell did you let the cat in without noticing a bird in its mouth?"

C - "I have no clue, but there is still a BIRD in the basement."

B - "Do you really need me now? Can I do it later."

C - "I suppose, but there will not be a stitch of laundry done in this house today."

For a moment I thought about blocking the cat door in the basement door, but I figured the thing would never get out of there without meeting up with a big black cat and that would solve my problem anyways. Gross or not, a dead bird is FAR better than a live one. I decided instead to take my mind off of the filty thing with some mindless internet viewing. As I surfed away, I could hear the thing in the wall behind the closet in the office. Our home is a tri-level, and the office closet backs somewhat into our cedar storage closet in the basement. After a while the fluttering stopped and I didn't hear a thing the rest of the day.

When Bill got home we armed ourselves with a broom and a Mag Light and headed out to do battle with the beast. We searched high and low in the basement to no avail. We tried throwing a rubber ball into the rafters above the cedar closet, but no telltale twittering or rustling was heard. We figured it had bashed itself to death in the wall and gave up.

This morning the kids and I returned from a trip to the gym and Target. I gave them some lunch and rounded them up to head upstairs to wash up for nap. I froze in my tracks. There, sitting on the banister in the foyer, was the beast. It was black with little white dots, and its evil yellow eye burned right through me. I screamed and the thing took off. It flew right up into the kids bedroom.

Phone ringing

B - "Hello."

C - "The bird. IT IS IN THE HOUSE."

B - "I thought I heard something this morning. Where is it now?"

C - "In the kids room, which is where we need to be right now, so I can't just close the door."

B - "Do I need to come home or can you handle this?"

C - "I hate birds."

B - "Cybill you cut dead people up for a living and you can't handle a little bird?"

C - "I guess. I'll give it a try."

I brought the kids downstairs and turned on the TV...somehow it was on a station that was broadcasting a Catholic mass...I took this as a good sign. I headed up to the bedroom.

When I got to the door, I eased myself into the room and did a careful sweep complete with a little darting look around the door (boy I watch too many cop shows). I found the beast on the window sill.

C - "Okay...I don't like you, and you don't like me, and I am sure you would rather be out there so lets just stay calm and we can get through this." (once again...I watch way too many cop shows)

I slowly reached up and eased the window open. The bird stayed quietly where it was on the sill. I slid the screen aside and stepped back. The bird didn't move.

C - "Go ON! GIT"

It took off out the window, and I collapsed into a heap on the floor.

I hate birds.