A bird is gunning for me.

Okay, so my parents gave me a pair of hanging flower baskets for Mother’s Day, which I hung from my front porch on Sunday night. I water them with a bowl of water instead of my watering can, because it’s faster that way. I watered everything without incident for 3 days. Last night I brought out my bowl of water and watered the planters on the porch. I made all kinds of noise and did not attempt to be gentle. Then I climbed up on one of my wicker chairs to pour water into one of the baskets……

And a wet pteradactyl SCREECHED in outrage and dive-bombed straight from the basket to my face. I screamed at the top of my lungs, poured the water all over myself, and leaped off the chair. Honest to God, I executed a perfect half-turn, opened the screen door, and made it inside in the space of one leap, where Dave and Gabby stood in the entryway with their mouths hanging open. Then Dave started chuckling… then giggling…. then laughing hysterically. “Mom, there’s water dripping off your hair,” Gabby observed clinically. “What was that bird?”

“Mom thinks she found a bald eagle, honey,” Dave responded in between peals of laughter, lifting down the basket to reveal a nest and a single egg. “Look, Ju– you scared it so badly it literally laid an egg!” He got out a Target bag and removed the nest and egg over the strenuous objections of Cam and Gabby, who wanted to “save it in my dinosaur drawer” and “cwack dat fing open,” respectively.

The bird (or dragon, or whatever it is) has not given up since then. It is obsessively circling my porch, waiting for its chance to swoop back in and lay some eggs. Preferably in my empty eye sockets, I think.


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