It was Christmas Day, and there right next to fireplace was a pear tree, with a partridge in it. "Haha, just like the song, thanks a lot honey," I thought. It's now three days later, and every day, it's been another fucking pear tree and bird. Or birds, I should say. In addition to the 4 partridges I now have 6 hens, 6 doves, and 4 calling birds.
The racket is incredible, and they are shitting constantly all over the living room. The pear trees are covered in whitish grey bird shit. I've thought about just unplugging the Christmas tree and throwing it to the curb. It's disgusting. I have never, ever expressed an interest in birds. Ever. While a mature fruit tree would be great, I'm not running a fucking pear orchard, so what am I going to do with 4 pear trees? Or 12?
On the 26th, I went downstairs, and told her I was impressed with her commitment to the joke, and that it was funny, but really, we can't take care of all these birds. It's cruel to them, and weird. But yesterday morning I just wanted some coffee, and saw the third pear tree, more doves, and the hens. I moved into the garage with some headphones and a sleeping bag. I barely looked at the calling birds this morning when I went to the bathroom. The smell was terrible, and feathers were floating around from when the hens and the partridges got into some sort of territorial battle. I could hear it through the headphones.
I know exactly what is coming next. I know the stupid song. Fresh milk everyday would be nice, I guess. I have no idea how you even acquire, much less do with, pipers and jumping aristocrats and dancing rich ladies. But I can't continue this way. I don't know what to do. I thought we'd get engaged in the New Year. She was the one. But our house is an aviary. The neighbors are going to find out--they're already suspicious, I can see them at their windows after a particularly loud squack. I have to go to work tomorrow. All my stuff is inside. When I go inside, she stares at me with wild eyes and asks if I like her gifts.
My plan is to stuck it out until I've collected enough gold rings to put down a deposit on a studio someplace, and before the health department or animal control evicts us.
7:30 PM Pacific
Prediction: I get some sort of bird disease before getting the 15 gold rings I need.