Adventures in singlemotherhooding it.

My text to Mike one fateful evening:
MIIIIIIIIKE!!!!!Bird trauma.Call ASAP.  

Here's the story.  I came home from work the other day and the house was a little chilly so I decided I should light a fire, cuz I'm super handy like that.  Audrey was at work, Goose was feeding her goats, Grant was out riding his bike and Elsie was downstairs with me.

I noticed there was already a lot of newspaper in the stove, but I didn't think much of it--I figured someone was going to light a fire earlier and decided not to.  I opened the stove and started to add kindling to the paper and then decided I should probably wad the paper back up tighter so I reached in and out flew a bird!!!
Right at my face.

Let us pause here for a moment and discuss my feelings towards birds.  Birds are fine.  Birds are beautiful and majestic.  I have absolutely no problem with birds...as long as they are not in or any where near MY SPACE.  I don't like birds swooping down near me.  I don't like birds fluttering by me.  Is that so wrong??
And let me be VERY clear here...my house is most definitely MY SPACE.
 
So, the bird is flying around the room, Elsie and I are both screaming and the cats (Gertie and Ethel) are trying to figure out what is going on.  The bird crashes into the window over by the freezer and Gertie jumps up and grabs it.  So now we have Elsie and I screaming Gertie with the flapping bird and Ethel still trying to figure out what is going on.  By this point Elsie had run into the bathroom for cover and was just peeking out the door, I was by the back door trying to decide if I should just leave the house all together and let the bird take over.

Gertie takes the flapping bird into Elsie and Grant's room.  I had gained enough composure to tell Elsie to go shut the bedroom door so at least then the bird and the cat would be trapped in a room and I could call someone for help.

She is telling me she can't and I am trying to convince her she can...after some frantic discussion between the two of us she takes a step or two out of the bathroom when suddenly the bird escapes from Gertie, flies out of the bedroom and starts flying around the family room again.

I opened the back door, not totally sure if it was for my freedom or the bird's, (alright fine! It was for me--but I decided not to abandon Elsie) so I had the door opened all the way and I was cowering behind it trying to decide what to do next when the bird must have seen the escape route and flew out.

WHEW!

After Elsie confirmed that it did indeed fly out I slammed the door shut and we hugged each other ....it was at this point that she told me,
"Oh yeah, Grant said there was a bird in the stove."

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?

This tidbit of information would have been good to know about five minutes prior.  Needless to say, I did not start a fire that night.  And my throat was sore for a few days from all the screaming I did.  And Mike could hardly stop laughing when I told him of the encounter.

It was traumatic, but I think I'll recover.  The bird, however, may never be the same and will regret the day it flew down our chimney for the rest of it's little bird life I'm sure.