Bathroom Birds

(Pre-script) Friday: anxiously trek out to the preschool field trip location only to find the field trip isnt until Monday. So completely blow the opportunity to have the happy child at school on the longest day of the week, which will only be offered 2 more times. End up having a pretty cool time anyway.

It’s been an interesting weekend. For one, the husband was actually home. (Huzzah) He learned putting a new doorknob on can result in the loss of an entire afternoon, and possibly seperation from your spouse. I had no idea when I bought it i’d need a good lawyer as well…possibly the ONLY thing not available in the checkout aisle. 

Lucky for me a 6 pack covered the labor at least. 

(Insert witty joke about child labor and the lack of booze-but copious amounts of drugs-here)

Another discovery was my experience with bird-herding can and did come in handy eons after it was learned. 

I went to pee yesterday and as I flipped on the light to head towards The Head, there was fluttering behind the flimsy shades in my bathroom. It wasnt daddy-longlegs-small….but i really had to pee. As i’m minding my own business, i see a little wing poke through the slats in a semi frantic flutter to escape. The poor thing could only manage a jump, since there wasnt enough room for it to get vertical.

So I climbed into the dry, and very slippery tub to try and save it. All i could imagine was slipping and doing a head dive straight down into the tile… But i had to focus.

I opened the first shutter ever so slowly and scared the bejeezus out of the thing. I had to work hard to stand still and not freak out myself. I was able to slowly approach it with my giant man hands and gently capture it.

Then we looked at each other like, “Now what?!”

See, I was actually intending on getting in the shower when I went into the bathroom and got waylaid by nature, and then the bird.

So there I am standing buck naked in my birthday suit with a bird in my hand (and no, there were none in the bush) trying not to flash the entire suburban neighborhood my extremely underwhelming chesticles.

But at least I didnt have to pee.

I slowly & carefully climbed out of the slippery garden tub, snatched the nearest robe, draped it over my chest, holding it only by the strength of my armpits, and seek out my husband.

“Ummm.. Dear? Look what I found in our bathroom.” 

He was wrangling kids right at that moment, and we all had a gander and pet at the terrified li’l sparrow-esque creature. 

It really was quite beautiful and soft..and terrified. 

At some point my husband realized I was nearly nekkid, and helped situate the robe and belt for me. 

I wish we had taken a picture, but then again, you’re welcome.

So I walked out front and let it go. Thankfully it didnt appear to be damaged. The only casualty was my daughter. She cried for a good while after tweety was set free. We did a whole song and dance about it returning to it’s babies, blah blah blah. 

The other casualty was respect for our cat. I was thankful for her uselessness, but still a smidge let down. She was, afterall, laying on my bed, a mere 10 yards or so from the window. Apparently birds are not in her repertoire. 

The weekend was closed out by a nice 3 ring bout with my spouse regarding second marriage issues that I cannot afford to go into here. Lets just say it was a draw, no one got KO’d and after 13 years together, I am still enlightening him on the reality of what it means to marry someone who had a head start. Sometimes you have to remind each other how fabulous you are to put up with each other.

I hope next weekend is far less educational.

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