Thursday afternoon the boys and I are sitting in the family room (screen doors in use/windows open) and while playing legos we are listening to the birds singing. Gage even comments how close the one sounds.
Later that night while Daddy is bathing the boys Davis swears there is bird poo in the bathtub. "No-way" Ward says and we laugh it off.
Next morning Winter has returned and the windows are shut once again! While little Tru and I are playing on the floor in his room, BUT what to my wondering eyes should appear but bird poo on his floor. I pop him into his crib and clean up the poo. LAst minute I decide to head down and get some sanitizer. As I make my way into the kitchen this huge bird swoops down and comes within inches of my head. I scream and he takes off for the family room to perch (ie poop) on my mantel.
It is me vs the bird.
Tru is no help as I am chasing the bird from room to room he is making his way downstairs laughing all the way. All while I am running from room to room on my cell phone trying to call Ward or my neighbor. I need back up - this bird is huge and who knows if there are others lurking...waiting to catch me when I am weak... Of course, Ward does not answer, I leave messages "Yes, you may be in the middle of a pap smear honey, but we are filming Birds II here".... The bird is under attack. I have nothing but my Lysol. Then as if he saw a chance to get away - he flew right into the window...
"Oh no" I squeal if only to myself. He has broken his neck and is laying in his own poo. Poor vulture. I estimated how long it would take for him to die. He was laying there - blinking and taking his last few breaths. I decide Lysol is not the way for him to go so I am off to get a box to cover him with - a tupperware box I decide as big as he is. This way I can cover him and he won't be able to breath. A much quicker death and so much more humane.
As I return down the stairs with the tupperware box of death he some how pulls himself away from deaths door only to attack me again. Mid attack I manage to get the front door open and he sees the light. Out the door he flies, leaving me to clean up all of his little gifts of poo. Which after he spent the night inside was more than you can imagine
Talk about a crappy day.