To Kill A Mockingbird

I wouldn’t kill a mockingbird, because I love all of God’s critters.
Let me amend that: I like many of God’s critters. Besides, the mockingbird is the beloved State Bird of Texas, The Lone Star State.

I always heard when I was young that it was against the law to kill a mockingbird in Texas. If you don’t know it, Texas is a “death penalty state.” My home state has put to death 9 people so far this year, and I don’t want to be the next on the list. But, I’d sure like to put a muzzle on the mockingbird that decided to take up residence in the tree outside my window.

Sleep would not wash over me last night. Too many thoughts were rattling around in my head, and I had a backache from sitting in front of this computer screen. I tried taking Tylenol P.M. to no avail.

I put the television on Law & Order because, ordinarily, that is a sure-fire way to sedate myself. I love the show, but something about it puts me into a snooze. Consequently, I’ve seen the first half of every show, but I had never seen the end of one–until last night.

Hot flashes (or “power surges,” as I like to call them) began to plague me. An overly dependent, neurotic cat, named Walter Mitty, draped himself across my neck to try to comfort me. It didn’t help a bit.

Then, I heard it. The mockingbird. He was cheerfully mimicking the call of every other bird on the planet. At the top of his tiny little lungs, he proudly sang every single song he knew, including “The Hallelujah Chorus.” It was 12:30 at night! Did he just fly in from a different time zone? Or, were his mating desires that urgent?

Once I heard him, I couldn’t ignore the commotion. Even the white noise of the oscillating fan, the purring of my cat, and my husband’s peaceful snoring wouldn’t drown out the racket. I tossed and turned.

At 2:30, that son-of-a-gun was just getting primed, and I was wishing I had a shotgun primed. I began fantasizing about ways to mutilate that pesky bird. I began counting the ways I could desecrate his little body…

And, don’t you know it, that worked like a charm! It was better than trying to count sheep. Soon I drifted off to blissful slumber.

It’s now almost 9:00 a.m., and there is no noise outside my window. Bless his heart, I guess that mockingbird finally “wore hisself out.”

Excuse me while I go set up my CD player on the porch and play Queen’s “We Will Rock You” at top volume, while I violently shake that tree.

Other posts you might enjoy:

1. Fly Away
2. We Call Him Fenster
3. The Blues in Black And White
4. My Own Personal Blogging Award
5. Another Argument With My Muse

Tagged as: humor, mockingbird, Talkin' 'bout Texas