05 June 2012

A Letter. To a Bird.

To the Bird who thinks he's Justin Bieber (you know who you are),

First, let me say that I am super impressed with the myriad of chirps that you know.  It's like listening to one of those car alarms that goes through 6 or 7 alarm sounds before it repeats.  This leads me to believe you are a mockingbird.  Now, I have no problem with your melodies.  As I said, I'm impressed with your range and your variety. Also impressive? Your volume.  You actually managed to wake up my husband from a sound sleep.  There aren't many things that can do that.

However, what I do have a problem with is the hour at which you decide to serenade me (or your lady bird friend - whichever).  While I love listening to your songs, but I don't love listening to them at 2 o'clock in the morning.  I mean, seriously? Who does that? Who starts singing at 2 o'clock in the morning, at the top of their little lungs, and continues singing for 3. WHOLE. HOURS?!?  Sigh.

Now, if you were to start at 2am and go for 15 minutes or so, fine.  Whatever.  I can get back to sleep after that.  If you were to start at 6 and go for 3 hours, fine. Whatever - it could be a nice way to wake up.  But when you start at 2am and just go on and on like you're performing a full on concert with the Biebs, that's when I take umbrage with you sir.  Do you really have to sing so loudly?  I have the window closed, the fan on, and you STILL sound like you're singing from the top of the pillow I've placed over my head to try to drown out your songs.  Seriously.

I'm sure you think you're doing me some sort of service, providing music for my nighttime slumber, but let me assure you sir, you are not.  You are hindering my slumber. Let me rephrase that.  You aren't hindering it so much as you are completely destroying it.  Here's how it goes.  I fall asleep around 11.  At 2am I'm having some sort of dream which is ended when I'm woken up by "Chirp! Chirp! CHIRP!! Chirp-ity-chirp-chirp-CHIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRPPPPP!!! chirpchirpchirpchirp. Like baby baby baby OOOOOHHHHH! Chirpity-chirpity-CHIRRUP!!" I get up, I shut the window.  It doesn't help (because you're so loud). I lie there listening for a few minutes, trying to re-appreciate the talent you have, until appreciation turns into annoyance.  Then I put my pillow over my head, which helps a little, but only until all the heat that usually escapes from head gets caught in the pillow and warms my head back up.  Then I have to remove the pillow from my head until I cool off again, but by this point I'm emotionally heated as well.  And so it goes for 3 hours until you make your final encore performance, leaving me an hour to regain my sanity enough to try and get SOME sleep before I have to get up.  Not cool, Bird.  Not cool at all.

Last night I think you moved to a different venue (tree on my street) as you weren't as loud as usual when I heard you singing this morning, and that I do appreciate.  However, I'm sure that whoever's house you were outside of didn't appreciate it.  Maybe over by the gym, or down by the main gate where no one lives would be a better place to be?  Actually I think the gate is the perfect place for you.  The guards there have nothing better to do at 2am than to listen to you sing.  You'll have a captive audience as they aren't allowed to leave the gate!

All joking aside, Bird, you've gotta go sing your way-too-early-in-the-morning songs somewhere else.  Otherwise, I might be forced to do something drastic.  Like run up and down the street in my pajamas, shaking all of the trees until I figure out which one you're in then throw things at you until you leave.  Or, I'll send my cat out.  Don't be fooled by his apparent uselessness.  He'll cut a bird.  Don't let it come to that.

Sincerely,
The Girl You're Keeping Up All Night


2 comments:

Anonymous said...

We sympathize! We have bird's cousins at our house. Dad uses ear plugs. They help.
Mom

Anonymous said...

Actually, I prefer the birds to helicopters and bombs from 8:30pm to 2:00 am. We had this experience on Tuesday night. Loads of fun.
Mom