Birds!

This afternoon, my three boys and I were stir crazy.  The big boys had waited too long for a friend to eat lunch and were certain his mom had made him take a nap.  The little brother was restless and burrowing into my shoulder.  I felt like my skin was crawling with bugs.

You know, a typical day at 2:00 in the afternoon.

So, we loaded into the car, rain boots and all, and headed to the hobby lobby for some 50% off early Christmas cheer and crafts.

The boys were good.  They asked to drive past our old house on the way home.

I obliged.  She looked good.

Then we decided to drive past the lake.  Boy number 2, in the middle of his 1000th rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star crashed in the back seat.  Out like a light he was.  Daylight savings time is still killing him.

Anyway, Elliott and I noticed while driving by the lake that it was full of birds.  Geese, ducks, seagulls, all sorts of feathered and flocking friends.

When we got to the northern most part of the lake, it was full, literally full of all kinds of fowl.  With two boys asleep in the car, the big brother and I decided to get out and take a picture.  To one side of us, was a body of water chock full of all manner of quackers (the picture however doesn't do it justice).

To the other side of us was a makeshift gravel parking lot with at least 1000 seagulls just doing their gull thing.

As we turned towards them, walking slowly to take our picture we discussed why we were being careful. I mean seriously, who wants to get 1000 pigeons all up in their face with a start. No matter though because as careful as we were, the guy who had been taking pictures next to us got into his truck and drove right up to all those gulls and startled the living crap out of them.

And quite literally right into our faces.

Elliott and I screamed and screamed. We laughed. We ducked. It was awesome and absolutely terrifying all at the same time. We started to run but stopped because it felt like the birds were chasing us. Elliott yelled, "mom, cover your head so they don't poop on you!"

When we got back into the car, both out of breath, we laughed the rest of the drive home because we decided that if what had just happened to us had happened to Wyatt, he might have peed his pants and then died.