The title of today's post is what I used to tell my jean-hiking dad when I was learning to drive. He disagreed with me very much, to say the least. He would tell me that I needed to plow right through them because of the obvious wreck that I could cause.
Fast forward to a couple of years ago, Brett and I are driving to my sister's house and there sits two baby birds in the road, I try to move over just a little bit to ensure my tire didn't steamroll them. Well, I'm apparently not that great at doing that and misjudged where exactly the bird was in relation to my tire and I squished that baby bird. Yup, I cried. Brett, trying to console me in telling me that I did all that I could to try and save the bird. I was still sad.
Not too long after that, I was on my way to work, on the highway, right before sunrise, a couple birds flew right in front of my car. I tried to swerve to miss them, but I heard one hit my car. I kept looking and looking in my rear view mirror to see if it was lying in the road, but I never saw it. When I got to work, I looked under my car for any damage, but I saw nothing. I let it go and thought nothing of it until a couple of days later when my car seemed to start to smell. I kept checking my car. Under it. In it. Anywhere I could think of to look for that bird. I couldn't find it anywhere. I thought maybe I needed to get my car washed and then anything would be washed away. I left the house that day during nap time, went and washed my car with the touchless wash and then went to Wal-Mart. I parked my car, got out and as I'm walking into the store, I looked back at the front of my car. I would have never been able to fully prepare myself for what I was about to see. Out of the decorative opening in my front bumper, I see HUNDREDS of maggots pouring out into the parking lot. I was horrified and scared to even get back into my car. I went in, did my shopping in the hopes that the problem would subside and I would be able to get my car home without a hint of a horror movie starting in my vehicle.
I came out after I did my shopping. Problem still there and still just as gross and still just as frightening. I got home as soon as I could and was even scared to pull my car in the driveway. I didn't want those nasty little things anywhere close to the house. I came in and got Brett, explaining about the bird I had hit a while before, blah blah blah, insert Brett scolding me for not looking hard enough, blah blah blah. Once again, I popped the hood and looked in, still didn't see anything. The evidence was still pouring out of the decorative opening, but we can't see anything through there, either. Until we looked into the hole that houses the latch for the hood. Only there, were we able to see to the bottom of the decorative opening, which is now obvious that there is a shelf that sits lower than the opening and that is where the bird had come to rest. With the help of some pliers and a straightened out wire hanger, Brett got the bird out. My hero. I went and washed my car again, immediately following the removal of the bird.
Again, this story has nothing to do with anything, except for the randomness of my brain and the entertainment in which I provide. So, take it from me, check your car thoroughly if you ever hit any animal with your vehicle and don't see any trace of it. Stop for squirrels and brake for birds? Yeah, maybe not such a bad idea anymore.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you barfing in your mouth a little, until next time...
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