Angry Birds

by Tonia

For several years sparrows have been nesting under the eaves of my roof. This “home inside my home” may be home-grown but it is NOT homey! It is an intrusive declaration of war - a survival of the fittest.

Those fucking birds are like dive bombers coming through the patio. I’ve had injuries trying to take cover.

And the incessant chirping of hungry baby birds at 4:00 a.m. is enough to make me want to be a gun owner.

And did I mention the bird poop all over my patio furniture? It’s like my patio table is an avian shit magnet!

And, my favorite fowl remnant - the occasional “dumping” (splatting) of a least-favored newly hatched naked baby onto the patio – usually in the early morning hours - so that I can step on it as I start my day. Yes, I’m a bird hater.

I’ve tried to keep those birds from nesting. Really. I’ve tried -

-- I’ve stuffed tubular inserts into the cracks of the eaves. RESULT: tubular inserts removed  and tossed on my doorstep as humiliating evidence of my defeat.

-- I’ve taped reflective psychedelic flapping-in-the breeze ribbons to the eaves to scare them. RESULT: wild dance parties with a disco ball and loud music.

-- I’ve put garlic and other bird-repelling herbs under the eaves. RESULT: garlic-belching birds flying by thanking me for the new bird food recipe.

-- I’ve tacked wire mesh over favorite nesting spots. RESULT: wire mesh reconfigured as a barbed wire fence to keep ME out.

-- I’ve left them notes that they are going to have to start paying rent if they don’t leave. RESULT: shredded notes as part of the nest.

But this year, with unseasonable warm weather for February, I decided I’d better declare war early. With just a few pieces of straw protruding from the eaves, I climbed up on my shaky ladder and caulked every single tiny GD space I could find under those eaves. It now looks like my roof has been glued to the house by a 2 year old.

After my caulking frenzy, I looked up to admire my handiwork and there were two birds sitting on the guttering near their former nesting spots. Glaring. No, SERIOUSLY glaring. I mean, PLOTTING REVENGE glaring. I ran into the house as fast as I could. I’ve created my very own angry birds. God help me.

For your next girlfriends’ get-together, have a slumber party and, in the middle of the night, instead of TPing someone’s house, move those bird nests to your arch-enemy neighbor’s eaves!