If you walk into my office at work, you may notice that I have birds everywhere. I never really noticed this myself until someone recently made a comment about how I must love birds. Birds on the walls, bird figurines, birds, birds, birds. This gave me pause and I thought for a minute and said, “Actually, I really kind of hate birds.” Real birds. This reminds me of one of my favorite children’s movie lines from Madagascar. Melmin the giraffe said, “EWWW. Nature! It’s all over me! Get it off!” (Notice I said one of my favorite “lines,” not favorite “movies.” I don’t particularly like children’s movies and I don’t want any misunderstandings there.) I had to look that quote up to be sure I had it right. I cannot believe that movie was released in 2005!! Anyway, the line really stuck with me and I love it. Not that I don’t like nature, but there are some aspects of it that repulse me. Like swimming (aka, submerging my vagina) in rivers or lakes.
I have decided my love of birds is really only theoretical. I love the IDEA of birds. Real birds disgust me. And they scare me. And I am unbelievably allergic to them. I can walk into a house and immediately know if the owner has a bird because I will instantly turn into that grade school kid with the constant runny nose and watery eyes. The sneezing is non-stop until I get out and stay out for at least two hours. Their beaks are pointy and gross, their eyes are beady, their feet have sharp little claws and they fly around unpredictably, especially if they are trapped in your garage. I don’t understand why their poop needs to be white. I understand the purple because of the berry eating, but I seriously don’t understand the white.
Now that I’m thinking about bird poop, I remember that my oldest daughter used to get pooped on by birds freakishly often. One time a bird pooped on her through the car window as we were traveling down the highway. How does that even happen? Seriously, birds pooped on her all the time. Weird. Talk about Nature! It’s all over me! Get it off!
Birds can be amazingly colorful, their singing is beautiful (mostly) and they are free to fly wherever they choose. I can appreciate those things about birds, I just don’t really want to look at them or be anywhere near them. Have you ever been to one of those walk-through bird exhibits at the zoo? No thanks. I’ll pass. I’ll just wait outside for you guys.
And what about chickens? Those things are absolutely disgusting. They do not even have the redeeming qualities of being able to sing beautifully or fly gracefully through the air. I enjoy chickens so much more when they are dead. I love to grill up their carcasses and eat them and make omelets with their unborn young, but I don’t want to be anywhere near a live one. I don’t even like THINKING about chickens. They need to eat gravel with their food so their stomachs can mash it up. What the hell? Why can’t their stomachs just work right? That really makes me question the efficacy of the evolutionary process. Why did the chickens with teeth and properly working stomachs die out and the ones that need to eat gravel live on?
Ponder that while you enjoy the following photograph.
Please note the title of my blog and my cover photo! I just made the connection. It was several years ago when I titled it and my sister made the cover design.