The Only Good Bird Is A Dead Bird

There are things that I do not like.  I do not care for peas.  I don't like clowns.  I dislike mice.  And I really, really, really, REALLY hate birds.  They carry all sorts of diseases, they poop everywhere and they have sharp beaks that could poke your eyes out.  (Come on, you know it's true!  Didn't you ever see the Hitchcock movie, 'The Birds' ?!)

Seriously, I have had traumatic experiences involving birds.  Growing up, we had birds fly out of our fireplace on a weekly basis because they would get stuck in there.  When J was a newborn, a family of black birds made a nest in our exhaust vent where I would hear them tweeting in there all-day.  And, the creme de la creme, I once stuck my hand in our mailbox and got my hand pecked by a bird in there.  I. Cannot. Make. This. Stuff. Up.

So you see, I have a very valid reason for hating birds.  But, as much as I loathe those that are fowl, I do not necessarily want J and L to hate birds.  I want to keep my dislikes to myself so my kids can make up their own mind as to what they like and what they don't like without being influenced by me.  I don't want them to be biased towards something just because I am not a fan.

So when J points out with childlike wonder, "Mama, look at that bird!  Do you see him, mama?!"  I just swallow my nausea, smile and say, "Wow!  I see it, sweetie!"