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Where does every buzzard for miles around sleep, you ask?
A: Every buzzard for miles around sleeps in the huge tree under which we parked the rental truck. |
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Laura had warned us that we might get "some" droppings if we parked there.
What did we care? "It's a rental," we said. This is not what we conceived of as "some" droppings. |
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As we examined the damage and gagged from the smell -- you can imagine what comes out the other end of a bird that eats dead things -- a John Malkovich-looking guy strolled by with his family, paused to survey the situation, and informatively observed: "You parked under the Buzzard Tree." |
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While Spot wandered around distractedly nibbling on what appeared to be Buzzard furballs (what substance could be so foul as to be indigestible to a buzzard?), Laura apologized for not wording her warning more strongly. But we weren't upset at all. We thought it was funny. I put my hand on Laura's shoulder. "You do realize we don't care, don't you?" "Yeah," she said. "You do realize I have buzzard shit on my hand, don't you?" (Made you look!)
I retrieved messages later in the day, and one from Laura said: "You parked under the Buzzard Tree! You parked under the Buzzard Tree!" |
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