My bird, a feisty little green bastard, bit me the hardest yet today when I tried to put him back in the little mcMansion he has in the dining room. First I was irritated, then I was plain pissed. I mean, I don't resort to violence when he does something I don't like, so where does this make sense that he tweaks my skin with his little beak when he's angry?
When moms give bad kids the slap in the grocery store, we all shoot her evil looks, I mean, really! Teaching a kid what not to do by hitting it is really failing the logic test. But maybe it's instinctual after all. I mean, angry=violence, looks like, in its simplest chain. My bird has a brain the size of an almond and weighs less than five sheets of notebook paper and yet, instead of flying away when he's pissed at me, he reaches out and in no uncertain action PINCHES me.
I don't know what this means, but it is quite possibly profound.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment