The Birds. THE BIRDS!

I feel like a murderer. 

I'm seriously considering taking down the wreath.  I wasn't even really considering it until my Mom started with her scare tactics.  First of all, we spent a lot of money on that wreath.  And she made that bow by hand.  And the birds will poop all over the wreath.  And birds have lice.  And the lice will come in your windows AND BURROW INTO YOUR SKIN. 

Okay, so she didn't say that last part, but when she said birds have lice I have to admit that I pointed my finger at her and laughed.  Birds have lice.  That doesn't even make sense.  I was fully prepared to make fun of her here, but before I did I did a quick Google search "wild birds lice" only to find out that wild birds can have lice, and when the birds leave the lice will crawl through your windows AND BURROW INTO YOUR SKIN!  I only looked at one website, and it had less credibility than Wikipedia, but I'm going with it. 

So before the birds make up an official letterhead and claim primary residence exemption, I'm going to have Paul take down the wreath.  As of this weekend we will no longer be those people.  In the meantime I'm going to be feeling terrible for possibly and probably killing a few baby birds.  I don't even like birds.  I swear, becoming a mother makes you sentimental as hell.