I Am Woman, Hear Me Crow

The other night I'm sitting here wondering where the sound of birds is coming from. I hate birds. Okay, to be honest, I'm terrified of birds...right up there with rodents, clowns, body-less dolls, and roaming placentas.

What I hate is the sound they make. Chirping makes me want to kill birds. Those bird clocks, where a different bird annoys the hell out of you chirps every hour? They're from the devil, I tell you. So you can imagine, I was not a happy person to hear chirping in my house.

I said to the hubs, "Where in the world is that chirping coming from?"

He was all, "You're crazy. There's no chirping."

Crazy? Really? Probably. But not about this. I said, "It sounds like this: chhhiiiiiirrrrrrrrp."

He made me do it again. Apparently my pain is amusing to him.

I finally realized that I had left a tab open with a video playing on my laptop. There was much rejoicing when I couldn't hear those damn birds any longer.

I said, "If you find my chirp impressive, you'll love my rooster crow." I cannot believe we've been married over a year & I've never crowed for him! I mean, come on, it's full of awesomeness.

I crowed. Growing up on a farm does have its benefits. Like when you want to impress someone with the barn yard noises you can produce.

Hubby was so amazed with my talent that he told me I should go into a different career & become a pro cock. Isn't that what every woman wants to hear from her husband? "Become a pro cock, baby doll."

So sweet. And so many images in my head. Of roosters. Of course.