Tuesday, November 29, 2011

True Creative Story As Told By My Brother Adam

"Cover your heads people!" My six year old Toby exclaimed as we approached Walmart.
 
"Prepare for battle". 
 
This was his war cry as he wrapped the top of his head in his jacket.

"What is the problem?"  I relented as I tried to herd our four kids all under 
10 years old into the tire and lube center.
  
"It's them."  He pointed skyward.  "The pigeons.  Don't scare them. Pigeons 
poop when you scare them.  They can't help it!" 
 
My eight year old Aiden, was nodding in agreement. "It's true, he's right."

Delaney my two year old added "Ew poop, Ew poop" to anyone; family, 
onlookers, spectators other customers or workers. 
She was a toddler sized FEMA broadcast. 
 
The customers were obviously split into two groups in front of me. 
Those who have bright, out going children, who speak their minds 
and those who have the same but often hate that they have quite so many.
 
Thanks to PBS kids my sons had become savants  to the pigeon 
gastrointestinal process.
 
"They're mating"

"They are NOT mating" I declared while I swept my youngest and only girl, 
Delaney aka Princess aka Princess-cuts-a lot (the latter due to her prowess
with a plastic sword, often backing her older brothers in to corners 
with none to playful swipes of a hard plastic blade). 
 
Aiden was still shaking his head, as if to indicate to his brothers how little 
dad really knows about pigeons and their mating habits.  
 
In mid swoop the soda can in my hand got caught up in the momentum 
and a portion flung out on to the ground and on to my ten year old, Lucas.  
 
"What was that?"  Lucas exclaimed, True terror iced his words. 
Luke's body was frozen in fear of foreign urea.  He was checking his dampened 
shirt like a soldier searching for flesh wounds after a fire fight.  
 
"My soda spilled a little Luke" I said.
 
"Oh, thank goodness, I thought it was a pigeon peeing on me."  Apparently,
nothing fills a ten year old boy's nightmares quite like the thought of pigeon 
urine coming in contact with clothing and skin. 
 
You'd be forever known as the kid who got peed on by pigeons. 
 
That is a story that does not easily die, that's the stuff of urban legends
and local torment.
 
Delaney looked at his dampened shirt and up at her eldest brother's relieved face. 
 
She pointed and delivered. "Eww poop"
 

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