Attack of the 76 Birds

What a wonderful day it was yesterday. The sun was shining.The sky was blue. The air was warm. It was a day that cried out for a car wash.

I heard that cry. I heard that cry, dear readers and I responded (Seeing as I actually CANNOT remember the last time I washed my car).

Filled with zeal, I changed out of my impractical high heels and drove to the coin operated car wash. This type of car wash involves you leaping out and running around in a frenzy whilst plying your vehicle with high pressure jets and foam emitting scrub brushes,

I always feel a little out of place at this car wash. Everyone else seems to be either a) male, b) driving an Acura, c) wearing a lot of jewellery or d) supporting the alloy rim and car bling business. I stick out a little.

Anyways, back to the story. After a tasty Thanksgiving dinner hosted by the Harrises, where we were able to skype with Adele and get a live glimpse of Honour. Tucked cosily up in a MOST fashionable sling, she managed a gracious wave (She may possibly have been scratching her nose in her sleep but I preferred to take it as a gracious acknowledgement). Ah yes, after the dinner I headed back out to my car. My freshly washed, pristine, gleaming car. My PREVIOUSLY freshly washed, pristine and gleaming car.

My first thought was that leaves had fallen on it. A lot of leaves. A lot of small leaves. But oh no, they were not leaves.

An ENTIRE flock of birds must have sat in that tree. A HERD. A huge frenzied fully fed flock of BIRDS. And they ALL pooped on my car. All of them. Every single feathery one of them. Now, in case you are wondering whether or not I am prone to exaggeration and maybe there were just 5 birds sitting in that tree, I counted them.

Yes, that's right, I counted them. This morning, prior to going to the car wash for the second time in two days, I counted the number of bird poops on my car. There were SEVENTY SIX! I kid you not! Seventy six.

Was there an Alfred Hitchcock movie going on that I didn't know about? Seventy six, people, seventy six. I didn't think the tree was big enough to hold seventy six birds. Maybe they came in relays? Ten birds an hour. Or maybe they were the same 10 birds who came back, time after time. What are the chances?

I should have taken a photo and sent it in to the Guinness Book of Records. 'Most number of Bird Poops recorded in a 2 meter squared area in 6 hours.'

My car is probably traumatized. It may well even now be cowering out there on the parking lot, twitching every time a bird flies over it, the poor thing. It may take weeks to recover. I may even need to pray for it. I would hate it to be scared of birds. However, perhaps it thinks it's worth it to get washed twice in a weekend.

It'd better be clean when I go out there in the morning...