Splat
We have this huge tree in our front yard; it’s taller than the house, and the branches expand across our entire half of the yard and part of the driveway. It’s terrific for sitting under in the summer heat—most days I see kids playing out there, when they’re not running through sprinklers in their own yards. The big benefit to me is that all those leaves keep the sun off my car, so it’s not scorchingly hot when I get in.
The birds seem to enjoy the tree, too. And they’ve devised their own little games to occupy the time they spend lounging up there in the branches.
The main game: Hit The Car. Namely, hit my car. They hover on the branches, little asses aimed, and play their dirty little game. As near as I can tell, there are 3 different versions of Hit The Car. The main one is seeing Who Can Hit The Sunroof; plop a good one dead center and you win. The next is Who Can Land The Biggest Splotch on the car. Anywhere on the car. Double points for getting a huge one on the windshield. And the Prize Winning game is Who Can Slime The Driver’s Side Door Handle well enough that it can’t be opened without washing the car first.
They play these games every day.
Every. Single. Day.
Freaking birds.
Too bad they’re all too damned small to eat.
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