Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Does the caged bird really sing?

One evening not long after we were married, the husband and I went over to my father's house to find some items that I needed for our new house. In order to completely understand the story I need to provide you with a little background information here.

The house that my parents lived in had been under renovation for, um I don't know, about 15 years at the time and the back area of the house was closed off from some of the really important things like heat. Since it was late fall at the time, heat was a pretty important element so the back area of the house was quite cold on the chilly evening in question.

My parents had just recently spilt up, again, yes, I said again because it would be rude for me to say for the hundredth-millionth time, and since my dad was so fond of my mother at the moment he had shoved many of her belongings into the back room. You know where they would be safe and secure among the tools, saw horses, and sheet rock in the damp, cold, dark part of the house.

Part of her belongings included two small parakeets living in a small birdcage. Yes, I know you are gasping in horror, he put her birds in the back of the house! Why yes, yes he did.

Needless to say my parents must have really had some irreconcilable differences at the time. As awful as that now sounds at the time I guess I was so preoccupied with moving, marriage and my new found maternity status that the thought never occurred to me that the birds were probably not safe in this area of the home.

So my husband and I were making our way toward the back room feeling our way around all the boxes and trying to find the light switch in the dark without falling. There must have been a large box that I couldn't get around so I raised my leg to step over it and that is when it happened - I accidentally let one.

My husband immediately starts laughing and said I heard that.

What, I don't know what you are talking about.

I was desperately trying to save face and was grateful that we had not gotten to the light switch yet so he couldn't see my half-hormone, half-humiliation induced red face blazing.

That was those birds, they must have made that noise.

Just then he reached the switch and viola! we had lights. I could see him bent over laughing and pointing toward the bird cage.

You mean those birds?

I looked over and there they were, two non-flatulent birds, deader than door nails, in the bottom of the cage.