Today was pretty uneventful which is fine with me.
In my life exciting = bad.
Like the fires this past weekend or the bird.
Since I don’t want to bore you with the banalities of my day, I’ll tell you a story instead.
This happened years ago and it was the first indicator that birds were out to get me.
I went grocery shopping and bought a can of soda on the way out of the store. After I’d taken a great, big delicious drink (I’m a bit of a soda addict), I lowered the can to push the cart.
It was a beautiful, Florida day. Hot. Just a few poofy clouds in the sky. A slight breeze. Seagulls cawing overhead, looking for a scrap or two.
I felt something hit my arm like a raindrop but there were no signs of a storm. I looked at my arm and saw a smidgen of bird poop on my shirt.
I was not thrilled. I pulled a tissue from my purse and cleaned it off the best I could. I stopped at the car and started to raise the can of soda to my mouth. I don’t know why, but I looked at it first and I am soooo glad that I did.
There was a teeny, tiny drop of bird poop on the side of the opening. That damn bird had shit right inside my can.
If I hadn’t looked…(shivers and grimaces).
I do have to give kudos to the marksmanship of that bird. Had a bit not splatted onto my arm, I probably would’ve never looked at the can.
I bet the birds were flying overhead, waiting and watching, joking with one another (maybe, even placing bets) on which beakless (their term for humans) they could get to drink their shit.