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A Bird in the House Is Worth...
November 7, 2012 - Jen Zbozny
Stink bugs aside, is it common to wake up and find something flying around in your house? Not thoughts in your head, not rambunctious children leaping from furniture, but an actual bird? One you don't have as a pet. A mystery bird who appears in your office/library room out of nowhere? Right. Not for me either.
Here's what happens when you discover a mysterious bird flying around a room in your house first thing in the morning on Election Day.
1. You think you need more sleep. You always think this but for just a minute you think you are hallucinating. Then the bird tries to fly through the clear glass in the window, flapping its wings, buzzing your bedhead on its way to its new perch on the light fixture. Nice. Bird poop on lightbulb will be a fine lighting effect.
2. You close the doors to contain the bird - NOT primarily because you don't want the cats to LOSE THEIR MINDS but because you can't wait to wake your sleeping child and show her your new woodland friend and you don't want to go traipsing all over the house. This is how mom-minds work. Ooh! The kids will love this, even if it's an unholy mess and will suck up all my already over-scheduled time. They also work like this: if the bird is going to be in the house for a while, I'd rather have birdpoop on the bookcase than in the kitchen, living room, or bedrooms.
3. You wonder how long the bird has been living there. It could be the little fellow has been inside for days and we've just been missing eachother. Like a sparrow in Home Depot. How long have we all been living with and maybe ignoring a bird in the house anyway? Why did everyone just leave it here for me to deal with this morning? I have to say, in my opinion, bird-in-the-house falls in the same category as using a plunger. That's a man's job, right?
4. You scoop your sleeping daughter out of bed to come see something amazing. She rubs her sleepy eyes, spies the bird and says "Don't let the bird go out until after I wake up. Now put me back in the bed. Maybe you can give him some pancakes."
5. In your bathrobe (let's call it hunting attire now - we'll make it sound like an English manor!) you retrieve the toy fishing net and badminton racket from the garage. The fishing net is pink which makes it seem even more serious and manor-like as you greet the mailman on your way back in. "Morning", he says. "Bird", you mutter. That went well.
6. Arriving back in the aviary with your hunting equipment and fine attire on, the bird openly laughs at you. Mocking. Bird.
7. After an hour you give up. You have nothing on this guy. He's faster than you. He has wings. He's clearly smarter than you. Your modern tools, opposable thumbs, and command of language GET YOU NOWHERE! Not even if you use GOOGLE which tells you to throw a towel or piece of sheer curtain over him. That means you have to get close enough to do that. WHICH YOU CAN'T because HE CAN FLY!!
8. You contain the bird in two rooms. You leave it some pancake pieces and water. You take a shower, go vote, run errands. You feel bad for the bird. Stuck in alien territory in a panic - lost, tired, actually bashing your head against a wall at times, hungry, and really wanting just to go home to your own nest. I've been there bird, I feel your pain.
9.. 8 hours later, a miracle happens. In a feat of miraculous strength you manage to get the ancient window (which had been painted shut) to open about 8 inches. Eve and I actually heard another bird calling to our little friend. Eve managed to coax it to the right place (I'd trust Eve over me too. No pink net, no badminton racket, no hunting attire..) and out he flew. Such relief and happiness that we'd helped.
Here's what a bird in the house is worth. It was certainly a hilarious and memorable mother-daughter adventure. More than that, it was a fine lesson about how a tiny, seemingly fragile little creature was completely able to outsmart me and how much I wanted to help that little bird no matter what. I was so pleased to help him finally make it out on his own, but I admit I miss him a little this morning. Just like motherhood. And just like motherhood, he left me the mess to clean up!
What's going on in your house these days?
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