Yes, you read that right. Sitting eating lunch with Lindsay yesterday, I'll admit I was a bit preoccupied. I was probably reading and eating, or chatting and eating. Although the jingle of Lauren's wind chimes in her room struck me as strange since I knew the windows were all closed, it didn't register there might be something amiss.
After Lindsay decimated her cream cheese sandwich, I scooped her up to put her down for a nap upstairs. As I turned into her bedroom, something flew past my head, brushing my ear. I screamed, ran downstairs and out of the house. Breathing fast, I grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket. It appeared I didn't have the number for animal control programmed into my phone, but the non-emergency police number would do.
"Hi, this is Detective Scott..."
"Hi. This is Epiphany Alone and I live at this address. There's something flying around my second floor..."
"I don't know if it was a bird or a bat...I screamed and ran..."
"No, seriously. I have no idea what it was, I just got out of there with my baby."
"Ok, I will send a patrol car over..."
The 7-foot tall policeman wasn't as amused that now he had to go upstairs, open a window, and shoo the bird out of the house. He did so as politely as he could muster, though he did quietly wonder aloud why I couldn't have just opened a window myself.
"It's all set, ma'am," he said, handing me a bird poop-stained towel.
"Thanks very much." I said.