Invariably, either because of my wife’s tossing about in bed, or my daughter’s early morning whining, I end up awake at about 5am.
Normally, this isn’t a problem, because I fall back asleep pretty fast.
It’s springtime, however, so now there are about 8 million birds, happily singing to the fucking morning every day at 5am. until about 7am.
And it keeps me awake.
I’m tired.
I’m with you, brother. They start about 4:30am around me and I have to get up at 5:30 anyway, but I wish they’d just STFU. And don’t get me started about the damn geese when they visit the little lake behind my townhouse. ALL Friggin’ night they’re honking.
And the kids these days! With their damn music, and pants falling down, and ball caps on backwards!
I MIGHT even be able to fall asleep to them…but you know who’s absolutely terrified of the damn happy chirpy birds?
My 2 year old.
Makes me want to own a shotgun, but something tells me that would just increase my problems when the neighbors heard the blasts at 5am. Already been visited by the damn fire dept for burning some pine branches, the last thing I need is the police dept (which is 2 blocks from my house) coming over.
Ah, my first pitting.
What?
I’m pitting frickin happy chirpy birds, not a honey badger.
I’m a happy chirpy honey badger…
Anyways, I feel your pain. In these parts we have birds called hadedas. Big moofoos. Jeez, can they make a noise. And there seems to be a population explosion at the moment.
Fine. Go back to bed until a more reasonable hour then.
Wait a minnit. Besides not being a damn bird, you’re a nocturnal beastie, too. Everything ain’t about you, ya know.
This is why some people love stray cats, yanno.
And others hate them with the passion of 1000 suns for killing the poor, innocent chirpy birdies.
Gods… I know what you’re talking about. 5:30 AM this morning, chirp chirp motherfucking chirp.
I wrote a haiku.
Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet.
I need a fucking shotgun.
Bang, bang, ahhhh, silence.
**Date: May, 1991
**
Bus Wife, until this date has been a city girl. SW side, land of bungalows, alleys and such. We moved into the ranch house the day before, and slept on the living room floor. A nice, warm, May morning. Windows open.
4:00 AM, I am awakened by a crazed arm grabbing my own. Wife is screaming at me: “what’s that?, What in the name of all that is holy, is that F____NG Noise??”
What noise dear?
THAT NOISE, LISTEN YOU IDIOT!!!
I listen.
Oh, that noise?
Those dear, are called birds.
Yes dear, pretty much every morning, that’s what they do.
No, dear, we can’t move back to the city now.
Yes dear, I should have warned you about these “bird things”.
Being happy and chirpy in the early evening is fine and normal. Being happy and chirpy early in the morning when all sensible people are either in bed or the less fortunate are trying to make their bleary-eyed way to the coffee maker is unnatural and annoying.
You know what? Those little birdies are just trying to get laid, like everyone else. Cut 'em some slack.
Sailboat
If I ain’t getting enough, why should they?
We’ve got woodpeckers who wake us up. They’re relentless in their search for grubs. But I don’t hate 'em for it.
Oh, and now, the farmer behind us has a rooster.
I’m one of those haters. I had a pair of doves here outside my office for a couple of weeks, but last week some stray cat killed one of them. It’s mate sat up in the tree for 2 days waiting for it’s partner to come back. 
At least your birds wait until sunrise to start up.
Shut up and go to sleep, stupid bird
Regarding post 15 & 16…We have BOTH woodpeckers and random roosters. Last summer one of our neighbors had a rooster that couldn’t quite manage the traditional call…so it just sounded like something was being strangled. It has disappeared however (hmmm…) but a lot of folks dump their easter chicks in a nearby park–which the coyotes love, BTW.
Last summer. Not a happy chirpy bird but a relentless, sun up to sun down, one monotonous note over and over bird.
Mid June, Puzzles, the family cat, leaps into the air and pulls a bird right out of the air and eats it. Is it THE bird?
Yes.