Friday, April 3, 2009

The Birds

Several weeks ago, I heard birds pecking on the house near my office window. It didn't bother me too much. For years, birds have flocked to our back deck. In fact, when our old watchdog was still alive the birds used to steal his food. However, they would always leave the yellow bits, which was very curious. Anyway, I enjoyed watching the birds, so it was no big deal.

My office is above my son's bedroom and bathroom, oh and also the laundry room (very important). He said he'd heard the birds as well and they sounded as if they were crawling inside the house above his bedroom ceiling. My husband, Bruce, scoffed and told us there was no way birds could get in the house because the outside vents were all covered.

Still we kept hearing the birds.

Monday, as I was working away, I heard them again. This time they were louder. It sounded as if they were having a party in my son's room. However, believing what my husband said was true and there was no way birds could get in the house, I ignored the noise. By afternoon I needed to stretch my legs, so I ran downstairs to change a load of laundry in the washer. Opening the door to the basement, I was met by a frightened little blackbird flying around in the family room (door to laundry room was opened into family room). Okay, I know it was only a bird, but it scared me (I've watched Alfred Hitchcock's movie The Birds far too many times).

Yet determined to face my fear, I dodged the flying predator and sneaked over to the patio door to open it, hoping the poor little thing would fly out. Instead the bird flew back into the laundry room and disappeared. Great! My husband was due home in about an hour, so I decided to leave the poor bird alone until I had help, plus I now had proof that, yes, the birds were getting in the house.

When Bruce came home, we were able shoo the directionally, dysfunctional critter out the patio door. We thought all was well.
When my son came home, he went straight to his room, which was his usual routine and then he usually comes upstairs to see what's for dinner. However, this time he took forever coming up. When he finally appeared, I told him a bird had visited me today. He started to laugh and said, "That explains it. There's bird droppings all over my bed and my things have been knocked over." We both looked at my husband.

"Okay," Bruce said, "I'll check the vents again."

Turned out a vent from my son's bathroom was stuck open allowing access to every room in the basement.
The moral of this story: bird droppings on bed, check the vents. :)

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