bird poo

We have a large elm tree that hangs over our driveway. I love the tree- it provides a glorious covering of shade during the 9 days of summer we are blessed with every year, and each spring its weathered knots provide a nesting spot for the tiny little birds that flit about.  Argh...the birds.  It's no secret that I am deathly terrified of birds, and despise the little critters (they're like rats with wings), but even I can appreciate the cuteness of a nest of chirping, featherless, hideously ugly little babies.  But why, oh why, do they have to poo all over my car?

Sunday evening I glanced over at my car and was thoroughly perturbed to see that once again the ol' Taurus was covered in  white splatter. I shook my head in disgust and resigned myself to parking in the outer parking lot at work so noone would see my shame.  However, on Monday morning I woke to the sound of raindrops pounding on my roof.  "Stupidmiserablerainwithitsstupidclouds" I thought to myself as I stumbled out the door at 6:30am.  (Guess what I like even less than birds?  Rain!) But then, as I looked at my car, I was suddenly grateful for the miserable, wet drops that were pounding the city.  All the poo was gone!  What a glorious suprise!

After making the school run with the kiddos I pulled back into the driveway to get ready for work.  I was parked there less than an hour.  When I went to leave, my car had once again been victimized.  No fewer than 12 poop bombs once again covered the windshield, hood, and roof of my car.

I think I'll cut down the tree.