My potential killer...

This is the Eastern Phoebe for those of you not up on your bird-watching.

This bird, is scary I tell ya! For the past, oh, 4 years or so, this bird has made it's nest in our carport. Usually, it prefers to build it's nest right in the middle of the carport, right above "my" car (AKA: Mommy Ivy's car, the minivan). As you can imagine, bird poop was a given on my car roof. Ewwwww. Lots of it. Lots. Last year, I didn't want the bird "droppings" on my car, I didn't want to deal with it - so Laura knocked down the nest as soon as they started to build it. I think we knocked it down once or twice until they got the idea that maybe building and re-building right above the minivan wasn't the hot set-up (you know, bird-brain and all). And I guess the bird decided to build elsewhere.

This year, a few months ago, I noticed that bird again in the carport - first sitting oh so innocently in the rafters of the carport - watching me, mocking me. Then a few weeks later - it all began AGAIN. First a twig or two, then some more and very soon that bird had it's nest up. THIS time however, the bird decided to build the nest all the way over to the side of the carport, nowhere near the roof of my car. Smart bird - okay, I take back that "bird-brain" comment above. So we now are the soon-to-be-human grandparents of yet another set of fledgling baby birds. But, it doesn't end there.

That mama bird (papa bird?) sits in it's nest and I swear, it just watches me with it's beady little eyes every time I get into my car. I check to see as I'm pulling into the carport if it is indeed sitting on it's nest, and if so, I know to be careful because that bird likes to swoop down off it's nest and fly right over my head as I'm either getting out or into my car. When I'm getting into my car it watches me, it mocks me as if to say "Hey you, I remember what you did to my nest last year and I'll never, ever forget or forgive you - just watch me - (insert evil-sounding laugh here)". I actually have to duck my head when getting into my car, lest I be hit in the face by that bird - or pooped on. I just know it's waiting to do that, I just know.

I need help, I need therapy.

This will surely scar me for life. Maybe I should just stop eating chicken or turkey (distant cousins of the bird I'm sure) and make peace with the bird.

Or not.