For the birds....(I mean, KIDS)

Confession time.

I hate birds.  Also, I am not bright.  Impulsive and child-like, but not necessarily bright.  One might wonder why on earth these two things are related, and one might also note that probably only ONE of those two facts is news to anybody.

A little background on my bird-hating-ness.  I haven't always hated birds.  They are pretty.  They have a beautiful, melodious sound.  They eat bugs and such.  I once even owned a bird.  A co-worker of my ex-husband talked him into taking on an orphaned cockatiel.  I believe the cockatiel was orphaned because it was the devil, and no one could stand it, but I digress.  I happily thought that a cockatiel was just the most adorable pet to add to our brand-new little family.  Because every newlywed couple needs a squawking, obnoxious bird that wants out of it's cage at all hours of the day and night, right? That kind of stress is perfect on a budding new marriage when you're all of 18 and 19 years old.  So anyway, to make a long story short...the bird didn't work out (neither did the marriage, but it would be a few more years before we'd admit to that), and we ended up giving him away.  At least I *think* we did..I'm pretty sure I didn't agree to one of Jay's wilder plans to let it go free in the Oregon wilderness.

Cut to several years later, not really on *loving* terms anymore with birds in general, I was pecked, rather ferociously in an aviary at the Portland Zoo.  We had our adorable son Alex with us, baby Bethanie in the stroller, and some horrible little green and red beast nearly pecked me to death while my husband (now EX-husband) laughed riotously at my predicament.  Not long after that, he rented Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" for us to enjoy in the privacy of our own home.  Evil bastard.  

Ever since then, I avoid aviaries, even if it requires back-tracking half a mile through the zoo or park path to find an alternate route.  I don't need to see any more birds.  They have feathers, two feet, and occasionally one will have a very interesting-looking beak.  Whoopee.  Somehow, the big kids caught on that I wasn't just disdainful and bored..but that there was a real fear involved.  Like my unreasonable fear of popping Pillsbury biscuit cans, this has now become a source of gleeful amusement for them.  They pat me condescendingly on the head or shoulders, offer to hold a map or jacket over my head and escort me quickly through the aviary so I don't have to backtrack.  They say witty things like "Oh..that's RIGHT...you're as scared of birds as you are of loudly popping biscuit cans, AREN'T YOU??" and I just give them my best "I will KILL you when we get home" grin..and run through the aviary at top speed to prove my bravery, flinging other people's small children aside like they are bread crumbs.  Which I hope the birds think they are, at least long enough to distract them from me.

So, when one irrational woman is afraid of birds, and is ridiculously annoyed when the chirping outside wakes her up at the unholy hour of 7am, what is the best course of action?.....

.....buying a bird feeder for homeschool of course.  The girls saw the project in a book, and clamored endlessly and adorably for it, until I gave in.  The project actually involved BUILDING a bird feeder..but since I'm handier with a debit card than a hammer...a beautiful black bird feeder came home, along with a bag of "Songbird mix."  (Is it made of real songbirds?  I hope so!  *maniacal hand-wringing and 'muahahaha-ing'*) So now, the girls can gleefully watch for birds in the backyard, and I can lay in bed at 7 in the morning with a pillow over my head.


.....I'm thinking of buying a BB gun.

PS.  As I wrote this..I realize then, what an oddity it is that I enjoy playing "Angry Birds".  I realized that I'd rather be the pigs.  But I'm still mildly obsessed.  Just an odd coincidence.