Fight or Flight.

Not that I want to admit it, but sometimes I can be a big scaredy cat.

But usually for good reason.

Well it starts out with a good reason… and my vivid imagination doesn’t help the matter.

I mean, I watch Forensic Files like it is going out of season.

I love a good Dateline mystery. Or maybe I just love Keith Morrison…but that’s a whole other blog post.

{And if you are also a Keith Morrison fan… you will appreciate this and this SNL spoof. I assure you.}

Back to my point.

I watch enough Tru TV to live in a constant state of fear heightened awareness.

Accordingly, I can recognize danger when it is staring me in the face.

The following situation ran my heart rate up to about 270 bpm:

It was a quiet afternoon and I was sitting peacefully in our home office… minding my own business… enjoying the solitude and silence. Our office faces the front of the house near the front door, but is behind a planter and a tree which gives it some seclusion. My desk sits approximately a foot from the window where the blinds were closed, as always, since it does not provide much natural light with them open. I heard some of the bushes rustling outside the window… which automatically ignited my suspicion. Breath held and statuesque, I waited for another sound. Nothing. Nothing…

Then a soft “tap, tap”.

Wait, what?!

That had to be a figment of my overactive imagination.

Too scared to peek through the blinds… I waited again.

Immediately, “TAP, TAP, TAP!!” once more!

Someone was clearly knocking on my window! Not the front door… my window!

They must have seen the light on.

They know I’m home alone.

They know I’m scared of people knocking on my window suddenly and forcefully out of nowhere.

I surely can’t move because they will hear me and know that I am there.

If it were 1987, they would have already cut the phone line. Maybe they shot down the cell phone tower. How will I ever call for help when they climb on the roof and shimmy down the chimney to get me? This is obviously the same guy who hides under your bed at night waiting to grab your ankles just before you get into bed. (Yes, I still take a flying leap onto the bed for that very reason.)

Yes, I’m in most definitely going to end up on an episode of Forensic Files.

I need to leave clues. Pluck out a hair? Write out a quick note?

No, no! I need to take a picture of this perpetrator.

(Have I mentioned an overactive imagination?)

So I tip-toed out of the office… as the tapping on the window escalated into pounding. It sounded like a hammer was being used. Forget the chimney, they were going to come in through the window. Probably wearing a Scream mask… I was sure of it. What did I do to be targeted? I didn’t go out to investigate a strange noise alone…in my scantily clad pajamas. I didn’t answer the phone and find it amusing when the caller inquired about my favorite scary movie. And this was in the daytime! Obviously, this creep was a rookie.

Pound! Pound! Pound!

And they obviously weren’t giving up.

I found my camera and ran to the living room to get a good look at my soon-to-be intruder.

They’ve messed with the wrong girl!

I will take your picture!

Oh yes I will.

Fear that!

I mustered up the courage to peek through the living room blinds, camera in hand.


I couldn’t see the person.

Did they leave?!


Obviously not.

This was a clever person.

Camouflaged even.

I went to a closer window to get a better look… risking being seen.

There he was!


In action!

He wasn’t as big as I had expected.

Nor the same species.

But he was certainly determined to get whatever bug was on or behind the window screen.

I zoomed in for a closer look so I could positively identify him in a line up if he left any property damage…

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Oh, my Mr. Bluebird.

What a hard, loud beak you have.

“The better to scare the living daylights out of you with… while simultaneously collecting my lunch.”

Except poor Mr. Bird didn’t get any lunch.

And I didn’t feel all that bad about that.

Not after the profuse sweating, panic attack and last prayers he caused me.

Not to mention foolishness.

Ok, I felt a little bad.

He didn’t mean to.

He was sorry.

We hugged it out.

The end.

Moral of the story… No amount of Tru TV can prepare you a bird with this caliber of intelligence. And the only method to calm yourself down after working yourself into a frenzy? A cold Dr. Pepper. Amen.

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