I had a babysitting gig today that had me getting up at 7 a.m. to be there at 8:00. It was to help a friend who helps me out with Jenna some Wednesday nights. She had a work-related mandatory seminar--I love mandatory seminars on Saturday's myself. Uh huh. So I said sure, I'd bring Jenna over and her two kids, who adore mine, and vice versa, could play all day.
But I didn't figure on the parrot, least I think that's what kind of a bird it was. Not a Baretta bird, but a big green bird with an orange beak. He was there because my friend's brother-in-law was visiting the area and staying with them. And the bird was his.
HOLY SHIT THAT BIRD Screeches!
Can I just say that? Not a sqwak, but a SHRIEK. RRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! RRRDLEEEEEE! I mean to tell you, it goes straight to your eighth vertibrae, and if this isn't the reason for degenerative disc disease, I don't know what it is.
So, in addition to having the three loudest kids in Cobb County absolutely screaming for seven hours straight, I had this bird creature four feet from my ear SHRIEKING because it doesn't like noise or activity.
Yah, bird, neither do I. But I don't get to Screech about it.
