Bird brain

I check just to be on the safe side.

He is still bouncing from the sofa to the trampolene shouting “Geronimo!” at fifty decibels in the family room. He’s been at it for about 25 minutes. I detect no immediate indications of a flat battery. This kind of self regulation is to be applauded and encouraged. Horray! I return to the washing up and the view from my kitchen window.

It's bound to be a controversial campaign but something has to be done. I think a complete ban on birdlife is the only route available. There I am, diligently dragging home body bagsful of bird seed, and what do they do? Spread it all over the garden. Little hooligans! Why can't the birds appreciate a free lunch when it's provided? Are they all on some kind of a special diet?

The feeder hangs just outside the house in the empty space between the L of the family room and the kitchen, a view from each site. A special birdfeeder design to deter squirrels, a gift to me and them. Why don't they just eat it? Do they have malformed beaks or something? What is wrong with the modern birds of today? Why aren't they here now, to entertain me with their antics whilst I wash? Do we only have nocturnal birds to visit? Are owls the real culprits?  Flocks of unwise vegetarian owls.  I notice that the noise has died down as my son steps into the kitchen.
“I am be dah mouse.”
“Really.” What a pity he can't match his favoured vermin in the sound production department. I watch the birds gather around the feeder, fluttering and pecking.
“I am be energetic.”
“Indeed you are.” There must be nearly 20 birds. I wonder what kinds they are? I really ought to get a book on bird identification in California.
“Now I am bin done exhausted.”
“Oh, that's good.” I'm a wee bit weary myself. I do so hope ‘bin done’ hasn’t come back to haunt us again? Two little words inserted into every sentence. I thought that phase had faded? All too often they return. I console myself with notion that we’re only too lucky to have any phrases at all.
“I am beed have dah rest.” He exhales to demonstrate.
“What a good idea. Maybe we could sit down and have a cuddle, have a rest together?”
“Nope.”
“No? Why not?”
“Coz now I am bin done……I am beed…..energy…….guy……again.” He tears off back to the family room to resume his regime, and as he roars “Geronimo!” the birds blast away, scattering seeds at warp speed.

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Posted on March 30th, 2008.
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14 Comments

  1. joker the lurcher:
    March 30th, 2008 at 11:02 pm

    maybe the wild young folk make the birds jump?

  2. Crystal Jigsaw:
    March 31st, 2008 at 1:29 am

    The culprit is sprung! We too have phrases which I hoped were long gone only to return months later!

    Crystal xx

  3. frogpondsrock:
    March 31st, 2008 at 1:57 am

    Woohoo for the energy guy!!!!

    cheers kim xxx

  4. Heidi:
    March 31st, 2008 at 5:20 am

    So cute :)

    But poor birdies!

  5. The Domestic Goddess:
    March 31st, 2008 at 5:32 am

    Those birds may never come back…

  6. CircusKelli:
    March 31st, 2008 at 6:05 am

    Where does all their energy come from? How do we get some? :)

  7. Leanne:
    March 31st, 2008 at 6:23 am

    Mystery solved. Love the energy. Even when in the throes of trying to silence said energy, I still love to see it.

  8. Norah:
    March 31st, 2008 at 6:39 am

    We put out crumbs and birdfeed to feed the birds in late autumn or winter not long ago (though not this winter). My dad was watching the little birds dive down on the crumbs. Then he watched a much bigger bird dive down on the little birds and take off with one :P . That was a first. I guess we fed all kinds of birds :D .

  9. Suzy:
    March 31st, 2008 at 6:47 am

    Love him.

    Suzy

  10. lime:
    March 31st, 2008 at 6:58 am

    i always wished i could suck some of that energy out of mine with a syringe or something and inject it into myself when i needed it most.

  11. furiousball:
    March 31st, 2008 at 8:23 am

    haha, that’s great. poor birds.

  12. chelle:
    March 31st, 2008 at 12:03 pm

    hehe I wish I could get a second wind that quickly!

  13. bad mommy:
    March 31st, 2008 at 12:21 pm

    My mother has a bird feeder. No squirrels in south Texas where they live. However, she was doing the dishes one day, watching the birds, when one came slamming into the window above the sink and scared a year of life out of her. She looked out the window to discover a pair of sharp-shinned hawks using the bird feeder as, well, a feeder!

    And yet, the birds came back. I’m thinking that the birds will recover from the shock soon enough. Indeed, they don’t have a lot of room in their tiny heads to store past trauma!

    Perhaps you could put that seed to use as a sensory toy. Buckets of it are good for submerging one’s hands and finding marbles and other toys. I’m betting if you buried some pokemon figures, they might put their hands in hot lava to find them and pull them out!

  14. excavator:
    April 1st, 2008 at 11:05 pm

    Oh, that was funny. Thank you!