He gave me the Bird.

Friday morning, I was in the kitchen waiting for Doug and Miriam to come down for breakfast, when suddenly there was a really loud THUMP on the living room window. I knew exactly what happened, because it's been happening a lot lately. There are so many birds around our neighborhood, and for some reason they find it funny to fly into my windows during the day, just to scare me to death. I always worry about the bird, and go running outside to see if it is injured, only to find that there is no bird to be found. At some point, I wondered if the neighbors were just harassing me by throwing rocks, but a couple of times I have been looking out the window, and saw it coming. You would think that the blinds or curtains would make them stop, but NO. There is even a bird that flies into my neighbors house when their back door is open. I always wonder if they even know it is happening. I better get it on video before I tell them.

Anyway, back to the thump. By now, I just figure the stupid bird has flown away with a massive migraine or concussion, to be ridiculed by the other birds in the neighborhood. So off goes my family to school and work, and I closed the garage behind them. I didn't go out the front door until later that afternoon to get the mail. There in the middle of my porch is the poor, stupid, little bird. He is flat on his back with his little bird legs straight up in the air. He may as well have been napping with his eyes wide open. I thought it was funny, and as I was walking back to the porch, Miriam rolled up on her scooter from school.

I felt it was my duty to gross her out, so I pointed out the bird on the porch, and her fascination surprised me. She felt so bad that he died, but thought it was funny, too. Then she looked closer, and thought he still looked alive. "It's freakin' me out mom!" We left it for Doug to take care of.

A while later, Doug came home early, and thought it would be funny to put him on the railing. He set up the carcass, and came to see if he could shock us by showing us the bird that doesn't fly away. He was disappointed that we already knew that it was dead, but that didn't stop him from trying to freak out Miriam's friend. I decided we needed a picture of the event, so I took a few. Now I am weirded out over the fact that I took pictures of a dead bird. The thing is, it looked so peaceful. I went outside a few times, and had to pause for a second, because I expected him to fly away. You would think that someone used the Avada Kedavra curse on him, or something, because he looked so perfect.

We left him on the railing until he fell off, which was the next morning. I went out to take another picture of him, and then about 10:00 or so, we noticed that he had fallen down. Time for a proper burial. Too bad Doug disposed of him in the trash. We could have buried it and had a memorial service and everything. Miriam could have made a headstone for it, and we could've taken flowers to it on Memorial Day. Please. As if. Don't we know the Burrell's well enough by now?