So, I'm doing laundry about a month ago, and I'm trying to get the huge, heavy sack of clothes into the front door. Next thing I know, BLAMMO, something smacks my head. Slowly, I raise my hand to my cranium. BIRD SHIT!!
Then I notice it's everywhere. On my head, around my shoulder and down the back of my sweatshirt. This is the biggest, sonofabitch bird dropping I've ever seen, and it's all over me.
Grumbling, I drag the laundry into the front door and down the hall to our apartment. My wife asks me what's wrong. "A pigeon just shit on me!" I exclaimed in my crybaby, whiny voice that I only use on special occasions.
I go into the bathroom and gag at the sight in the mirror. I mean gag. And, I have to say, I have a pretty solid stomach. I do okay out there. The shit was in the form of fiber cereal, and big, and grey, and nasty.
My wife comes in. "Can I help you?"
Let's pause right here, because this is the whole point of this thing. If your morning sickness having, White Diet eating, sensitive to every sight and smell, pregnant wife asks you if she can help you clean the biggest bird shit since pterodactyl roamed the skies off of your shoulder, you say NO!
"Yes, please, help!" I cry.
And let the puking begin! My wife doesn't get one more step with her paper towel square (it wouldn't have been big enough anyway) before she's off running down the hall to our other bathroom. Now I'm gagging, cleaning the hideous pile off my shoulder, yelling at the dog at my feet who is sniffing the chunk of crap that just thudded to the floor, while the sounds of my wife's upheaval resonate through the air. It was a symphony of epic proportions.
Looking back, we laugh. We laugh hard. But only for a moment, as we cannot go into too much detail before my wife's face ashes over at the thought.
God, that pigeon was such a dick.
So, take it from me, if this situation should arise for you, do the right thing... call a laundry delivery service (Click to finish story).
Let's pause right here, because this is the whole point of this thing. If your morning sickness having, White Diet eating, sensitive to every sight and smell, pregnant wife asks you if she can help you clean the biggest bird shit since pterodactyl roamed the skies off of your shoulder, you say NO!
"Yes, please, help!" I cry.
And let the puking begin! My wife doesn't get one more step with her paper towel square (it wouldn't have been big enough anyway) before she's off running down the hall to our other bathroom. Now I'm gagging, cleaning the hideous pile off my shoulder, yelling at the dog at my feet who is sniffing the chunk of crap that just thudded to the floor, while the sounds of my wife's upheaval resonate through the air. It was a symphony of epic proportions.
Looking back, we laugh. We laugh hard. But only for a moment, as we cannot go into too much detail before my wife's face ashes over at the thought.
God, that pigeon was such a dick.
So, take it from me, if this situation should arise for you, do the right thing... call a laundry delivery service (Click to finish story).
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