[ WP ] Make me smile .

I left the lawn tractor outside the garage before I went on vacation. It was a less than stellar idea, but at least I covered up the seat so it did n't get wet during the rainstorm. I checked to make sure the chip did n't get washed off or something. No water got under the hood, that's fine. No rust on the metal bumpers, good. Most importantly, a nice, soft, straw padding on my wait a second those eggs are not supposed to be there. 
 
 The mother and father are nowhere to be found. The eggs felt warm. I decided to leave my lawn tractor out for another day. 
 
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 The parents did come back so those eggs were probably fertilized. I decided to leave my lawn tractor out for another week. 
 
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 Another rainstorm. I checked to make sure the nest was n't damaged. It was n't. 
 
 -- - 
 
 The eggs hatched, and out came these bald little monsters, their beaks cartoonishly large for their tiny little heads. Their eyes are closed with so many folds, it felt kind of nauseating to look at. They were like tiny, wriggling little worms. But they were warm, so warm, so I decided to leave the lawn tractor out until they flew away. 
 
 -- - 
 
 I know I should n't, but I keep finding myself poking and prodding the little things. There are little spikes coming out of them now, and soon those little spikes will turn into feathers. Maybe then they'll get a little less ugly, but somehow, I felt they would be the cutest in their monster little selves now. 
 
 -- - 
 
 It was amazing. With the bare minimal of feathers grown in, they started resembling those yellow baby chickens I had. I reminisced about those little guys briefly, remembering how some fairly... unkind... neighbours reported them to the city bylaw enforcement... I am getting angry, I will stop being angry. I will focus on these little guys in front of me. 
 
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 They began being more active. Before, they would only respond to their parents. Now, they would look at me when I get close. It rained last night, so I picked up a worm on a whim. I dangled it in front of their eyes, and they followed my hand almost magically. But they did not eat the worm. I was disappointed. 
 
 -- - 
 
 Today, I had a lot of free time, so I spent it watching the baby birds squiggle around in their nest. I saw an unhatched egg. It was disheartening, but it made the three little beaks in front of me all the more precious, knowing there was a chance they could have stayed in their shells. I tried petting one of it, mainly to comfort myself, and they seemed to enjoy my touch. I scratched under the beak as a followup, and it opened its mouth. I wonder... 
 
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 I have a collection of worms, slugs and snail eggs from my garden today. I scratched Fatty, who I named so because I will probably make it fat to satisfy my selfish whims, under its beak. It opened, and I slowly lowered a worm into its mouth. Fatty then snapped its beak rapidly, downing the worm in the blink of an eye. It looked at me. I scratched under its beak. Fatty opened its mouth. I put in some snail eggs, and it snapped its beak enthusiastically. One more time. This time, I gave it the slug, but it turned away. At this point, the other two birds began chirping. I dangled a worm in front of one of the other two birds, and they too began eating. I'll need two other names. 
 
 -- - 
 
 They are now Fatty, Chubby and Cheeky. Today, I found a HUUUUUUGE slug, as big as a section of my finger! I scratched Fatty under its beak, and it opened its mouth. I fed it a worm, and as if on cue, the other two joined in, chirping for food. I found that Cheeky is a gourmet, she'd only eat snail eggs. I hope it was a she, she just feels like a special little princess who does n't even like worms, the most cliche of bird food. Chubby would eat everything. He is kind of fat. I still ca n't decide on a gender for Fatty though, even though Fatty is the first one I bonded with, how peculiar. 
 
 But the most important thing is, I have recorded the entirety of the battle between Chubby and the huge slug on my phone. As I dropped the slug into Chubby's mouth, it balled up, and Chubby's snapping beak slid off the smooth, lubricated skin of the slug, sending the slug-ball into the air. Then, with almost perfect accuracy, Chubby caught the falling slug once more, and snapped its beak. Again, the slug-ball slid right out, flying high into the air. Unfortunately for Chubby, the third time, he only managed to knock the slug into the ground as it came back down. Unfortunately at this time, the parent birds came back and I had to bail. 
 
 -- - 
 
 I scratched Fatty under its beak, and it opened its beak. I waited. Fatty waited for a while, then closed its beak and looked around, as if confused. I scratched under its beak again. Fatty opened its beak, and extended its neck out so far it almost seemed like his neck grew a few inches. For a tiny bird, that's almost frightening. I had to reward that effort, so I gave Fatty a worm. Fatty snapped it down, and opened its beak again. These little things are growing fast, their appetites increase at an alarming rate every day. But I am prepared today. I had made a small worm pit, and picked from it a handful of fat, juicy worms. I placed a plate of flat beer in the grass, and now I have a plate full of slugs. Finally, with some rather extreme effort, I dug up a small cup of snail eggs from rotting tree branches I never bothered to clean up. 
 
 One worm goes to Fatty, a pinch of snail eggs to Cheeky, and Chubby just scarfs down everything in my left hand whatever is in there. Suddenly, as if in unison, they all turned their backs to me. Three little squinty eyes looked at me through their still-growing tail feathers. As if doing a dance, the three little squinty eyes wriggled left and right. Then, a giant marble of liquid white with bits of blackish green oozed out of each of those eyes, beautiful in a most gross fashion. They had just pooped in my general direction, and probably expected me to clean it up like their parents do. 
 
 I, uh, ignored it and kept feeding them. They pooped twice more, each time bigger than the last. Those tiny little wriggling butts became almost hypnotic to watch, at least until I realized how wrong that sounded. 
 
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 Every day when I see those little sparrows, there would be no trace of poop. How do the parents clean their babies? I'd rather not think about that. Fatty, Chubby and Cheeky have grown out their feathers now, and they look like full fledged birds. They might be flying away at any time, and in a way, it made me feel sad. Obviously. So I decided to pick them up today, and see if they were really my friends, or if they were just after my food. Fatty was obviously reluctant. When I placed him in my hands, it would desperately try and jump back into the nest. That ungrateful little prick, to think it was my first. Chubby almost did n't care, and oh god, I hope I'm not ruining this little guy's chances to fly because I could actually feel its weight, bird-boned as he is. That is... not a good sign. I am a terrible person. I picked up Cheeky, and she felt almost at home. She actually stood up, and tried to climb up my sleeves. It was a wonderfully productive day, I had three little cuties in my hands and my friends are going to be hearing all about it. 
 
 I lead a sad and lonely life. Just as I was about to facepalm myself for even thinking of something so cheesy, I realized those little birds were full of freaking parasites and bugs are crawling all over my hands. I screamed a little inside. 
 
 -- - 
 
 I could n't go see those birds for three days. Apparently one of the parent birds got injured by something, and did n't leave the nest to hunt for food for a while. It was fiercely protective of its children. Every time I got close, it screeched and flapped its wings. But it's finally healed, and went back to hunting. Goodbye parent bird # 2! 
 
 As always, I fed the little guys, and I picked Cheeky up. At this point, I realized I had gone off the deep end - I could actually differentiate between three baby sparrows. Whatever the case, I placed Cheeky on my picnic table, sat down and let my chin rest on the table as well. Playing with Cheeky at eye level was simply different from looking down at her. But I played with someone far more addicting last night, and it's called PS4, and we played all the way until 3AM, so I yawned. 
 
 When I finished, and opened my eyes, I noticed Cheeky noticeably closer to my face. I slowly opened my mouth voluntarily. Cheeky tried to stick its head in my mouth. Partly because she is a filthy bug ridden fleabag, and partly because I do n't want bugs in my mouth, so really, wholly because of the bug thing, I closed my mouth shut. Cheeky stepped away backwards. I slowly opened my mouth again, and Cheeky quickly stepped forward, trying to stick her head in again. The cycle repeated a few times, because I found it funny. Until Cheeky got fed up, and snapped her beak on my lip, refusing to let go even as I lifted my head off of the table. Thankfully Cheeky is a super light sparrow, or else her dangling from my lip swinging back and forth would've required plastic surgery to fix. While the pain was one thing, nothing hurt more than what my little sister, who had conveniently saw the whole thing when she came over, said to me over the dinner table. 
 
 `` I know you do n't have a girlfriend right now, but... are you really that desperate?'' 
 
 I thought to myself, you know what, if Cheeky is a real girl and... 
 
 I lead a sad and lonely life and I should probably just kill myself. 
 
 Or not, no, birds are the cutest things ever and I do n't feel sorry for the kind of stupidity going through my head at times. My love for Cheeky is for her pure, innocent, playful mannerisms, sort of like how you would feel affection for a little girl like, a younger sister, or a niece, or... 
 
 Tomorrow I'm going to the police station and calling a psychiatrist.
