Birds . . . and men—give me a break

I woke up at my new time—3:30 am. It seems that the birds in my neighborhood can’t sleep, so they start talking and singing and having a grand ole time. Why do they have to do this in the wee hours? Can’t they do it later in the day, when everyone’s awake?

What I’d like to know is why do they complain so much?

I have this one bird who comes to my window every single day, who strikes up a conversation with me. It’s true. He goes into this whole dialogue, launching nothing but complaints, and he doesn’t let up until I answer him.

Just this morning, at about 4ish, he was going at it. I listened carefully. I did. He was saying that it was slim-pickins’ around this neck of the woods. Yep. He was complaining again. I told him to go down the street and into the woods if he didn’t like what he was getting by my house. Yes, I did. Then he laughed at me. He did! He said, Ilikeitherewithyouchirpchirp.

And I answered him back. I said, wellthenquitchabitchintweettweettweet.

Then he got quiet, and I thought, okay, maybe I can go back to sleep for a few minutes. But he sensed my sudden disinterest and reacted to it.

He said, ohnoyoudidn’tcheeepcheeep.

And I let out an annoyed sigh and answered him, like the fool that I am. I said, Idid,nowgiveagirlabreakyouaresuchaguyjerkkkjerkkkjerkkk.

And do you know what he did? He laughed at me. He went, cheeepcheepcheepyeah,right.

Polly wanna cracker? Just like a guy… toss a crumb and they eat out of your hands.

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