Bird Brains

Arguing with birds is worse than arguing with a pig. Not only do the birds not enjoy it, they do not understand what you are arguing about in the first place.

On my walk today, I encountered dozens of birds lurking in the trees. In a shot, they would fly off in a large black cloud and return just as suddenly, peering down at me from the sparse branches.

As they cocked their heads at me, I stared back. Challenged, one of the birds stuck his neck out at me. I raised an eyebrow. He protruded his beak. I glared.

"You can't glare at me!" he said indignantly.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I have to glare at you."

"Why?" I asked.

"I'm intimidating," he said. "We all are. See how intimidating we look? Aren't you scared we'll peck out your eyes?" They all peered down at me menacing, acting as one giant black bird.

"No," I said bluntly. "How can I be scared at something that steals McDonald's french fries?"

The bird gasped and looked around. "Which one of you did it?" he asked sharply. "You know how bad that hurts our reputation. How can we be terrifying with a french fry hanging out of our beak?"

"Especially a french fry that is half-nibbled and has fallen from a toddler's grasp," I said, laughing. "That's so tough I'm just shaking."

"This is humiliating," the bird said, shaking his head as his companions squawked their defenses.

"It was tasty!" they shouted. "There haven't been bugs for weeks!"

"Then starve!" the bird shouted. "I can not be a part of this batch of bird brains anymore." He dramatically flew off into the grey sky, which immediately darkened. The birds followed him, flapping behind him in a panic.

"Wait up!" "Wait for me!" "Don't leave us!" "Oh, another french fry." "Don't eat it." "Score ten points for the windshield!"

As I walked back, I couldn't help but laugh. Arguing with a pig may be like wrestling in the mud, but arguing with a bird is far more interesting.