With summer vacation upon us, one would think that I would be able to get some much needed shut eye. After all, I don’t have to rush the kids anywhere, there are no classes to attend, nothing but two months of leisure stretching out before us.

That’s the theory, anyways. Tell it to the birds. Specifically, Abe and Lester. Who haven’t learned to keep their big beaks shut at 7 in the morning.

(And yes, I did cover their cage. The fackers don’t care. They just chirp away…)

Generally, I wake up to Nixon snoring in one ear and if I’m really lucky, my husband snoring in the other. However, this morning I woke up to something new. Something worse.

A bird, specifically Lester, pulling my hair out of my head, while Nixon snuffed softly in my ear.

The little facker escaped his cage. I thought the hand of God himself, had reached down to yank at my scalp. And then I woke up. I don’t know who was more startled; me, Lester or Nixon.

Imagine my children’s bleary eyed delight as they woke to the sounds of me cursing while I chased the damn bird around the house, naked as the day I was born. Soon our house was filled with the noise of Abe chirping Lester on to sweet freedom, Lester chirping his way to a heart attack, my creative verbal attempts at trying to coo to Lester (Come here you flying bag of fleas, mommy loves you stupid bird, come dumbass, well, you get the idea…) and my children giggling at the site of their mother running after a flapping, feathered creature, cussing a blue streak while her own bits were shaking like a bowl full of jello.

I did say my house was too quiet. I think I have solved that problem.

All I could think of was what would happen if Lester decided he wanted to pull on my boob rings with his big ole beak. Worse yet, perch there. Ouch.

Have I mentioned how much I love my birds? No? That would likely be because, well, I don’t.

Not that I’m going to release them into the wild or feed them to my dog (however, I can’t promise that he won’t eat them if they continue to to be stars in their own version of Prison Break.) It’s just, well, they annoy me.

My husband was right. Birds suck. That said, welcome to our family. We willingly welcome annoying bird brains into our family. Just ask my inlaws.

(Just to be clear, that means I’m the bird brain. Oh, did I mention it’s my husband’s family reunion this weekend? And I will be attending without my husband? It’s a good thing I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my husband’s family. And I’m not just saying that because they know where I live. Promise.)