The Buzzard Incident
Several days ago it was beautiful outside and we were out playing in the yard. We live in the country and have plenty of trees surrounding us. We love it here and wouldn't change it for the world.
As any other typical country day there were birds flying overhead. Especially buzzards. This is not unusual but I have to admit that I hate it. Buzzards make me cringe, particularly when they fly over my head, regardless of how high up they may be. Here's why --
A few years ago I was happily driving down the road one early morning. My young son was in the back seat jabbering away happily too. We were headed to my parents house to visit. This was a short trip from our house, maybe 10 minutes. We were almost ready to turn onto the road that my parents live on when suddenly something hit my windshield. It caught me by surprise, but I looked up immediately to see where the "something" had come from. To the right, out the passenger side window, I saw a buzzard flying. He was there was second and gone the next. Of course I was driving 60 mph....
I didn't think much of the buzzard at first. But then I realized what was on my windshield. Nope, not buzzard crap. This was much worse....
Buzzard puke. Yep. The buzzard's breakfast was now riding on the front of my Tahoe. Not only the windshield but the hood as well. I was appalled and disgusted by the sight of it. And then it hit me....
The stench. You have never smelled anything until you smell buzzard vomit. Regurgitated dead flesh. What a smell. Words cannot touch what it smelled like. It was horrid, horrible, horrific. Absolutely rank. No smell compares.
Once the stench hit I floored the gas pedal. I couldn't stand it. I had to get to my parents to get it off my car. And get myself and child there too so we could breath fresh air again.
Within minutes I was pulling in their driveway. I ripped my son out of his car seat and set him in the garage. Then I found my parents' garden hose and rushed to spray off my hood and windshield, while holding my nose. All the while, the stench is making me gag.
My mom came out after realizing we were there and I was washing my car so early in the morning before even saying hello. When I told her what I was doing she at first looked confused. And then it dawned on her that I'd been thrown up on by a buzzard and she laughed until she cried. I could have strangled her. To me this was not funny, it was disgusting. But I refrained from hurting her since that would mean I'd have to let go of my nose first.
Since that dreadful day I have hated buzzards. Not that I cared for them before, but now I really HATE them. They disgust me. And also since that day, I've been the laughing stock of the family when it comes to birds of prey. Haha. I hate buzzards.
Hmmmm... I think I need to find a bumper sticker. I Hate Buzzards. Or maybe I could start a fan club, or a website. Or....
As any other typical country day there were birds flying overhead. Especially buzzards. This is not unusual but I have to admit that I hate it. Buzzards make me cringe, particularly when they fly over my head, regardless of how high up they may be. Here's why --
A few years ago I was happily driving down the road one early morning. My young son was in the back seat jabbering away happily too. We were headed to my parents house to visit. This was a short trip from our house, maybe 10 minutes. We were almost ready to turn onto the road that my parents live on when suddenly something hit my windshield. It caught me by surprise, but I looked up immediately to see where the "something" had come from. To the right, out the passenger side window, I saw a buzzard flying. He was there was second and gone the next. Of course I was driving 60 mph....
I didn't think much of the buzzard at first. But then I realized what was on my windshield. Nope, not buzzard crap. This was much worse....
Buzzard puke. Yep. The buzzard's breakfast was now riding on the front of my Tahoe. Not only the windshield but the hood as well. I was appalled and disgusted by the sight of it. And then it hit me....
The stench. You have never smelled anything until you smell buzzard vomit. Regurgitated dead flesh. What a smell. Words cannot touch what it smelled like. It was horrid, horrible, horrific. Absolutely rank. No smell compares.
Once the stench hit I floored the gas pedal. I couldn't stand it. I had to get to my parents to get it off my car. And get myself and child there too so we could breath fresh air again.
Within minutes I was pulling in their driveway. I ripped my son out of his car seat and set him in the garage. Then I found my parents' garden hose and rushed to spray off my hood and windshield, while holding my nose. All the while, the stench is making me gag.
My mom came out after realizing we were there and I was washing my car so early in the morning before even saying hello. When I told her what I was doing she at first looked confused. And then it dawned on her that I'd been thrown up on by a buzzard and she laughed until she cried. I could have strangled her. To me this was not funny, it was disgusting. But I refrained from hurting her since that would mean I'd have to let go of my nose first.
Since that dreadful day I have hated buzzards. Not that I cared for them before, but now I really HATE them. They disgust me. And also since that day, I've been the laughing stock of the family when it comes to birds of prey. Haha. I hate buzzards.
Hmmmm... I think I need to find a bumper sticker. I Hate Buzzards. Or maybe I could start a fan club, or a website. Or....
OMG that is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo gross!
Posted by
Sarah |
5:26 PM