A little bird had not wanted to be just like all the other birds, so he hung about for a week after all his family and friends had flown south for the winter. He woke up early one morning and thought to himself that perhaps it was time to go, as his tail feathers were covered in frost. So after a quick breakfast of worms, he took off and flew up into the cold morning air. Being on his own, he wasn't sure how high he should be and by mistake, flew too high. So high that he cold very cold and too late, realised he had frozen stiff. He fell out of the sky like a little feathered rock, straight into a field full of cows. As he lay on the ground, he feared that he might be trampled by one of the cows he had fallen amongst. But he needn't have worried, the herd started to move off to the milking shed, but even though the cows hooves missed him, he thought he was going to die from the intense cold. Just then, the last cow in the herd took a huge dump, which covered the little bird. He thought he would suffocate as there was so much of it, but the heat from the manure had a surprising effect. The little bird was starting to warm up, and being so happy, he started singing as loudly as he could. But he soon realised he was still up to his neck in dung, and couldn't wriggle out no matter how hard he tried, but it didn't matter, as he was warm and no longer in danger of dying from hypothermia. Just then the farm cat came along after hearing him sing, and after a brief search, found the little bird and started to dig him out. The little bird thought this must be his lucky day, first he did not die falling from so high up , then when he thought he would die from the cold, the cow dumped on him and the dung warmed him up, and now, the cat was digging him out, life is wonderful he thought. Just before the little bird was free enough to take to the wing, the cat gobbled him up.
The moral of the story? While it might be ok to not follow the crowd all the time, you should always know when to stay and when to go. Secondly, not everyone who shits on you, is not always your enemy. Thirdly, not everyone who helps you out of the shit is not always your friend.
Sort of abbreviated but in the same spirit... When you're up to your arse in alligators,it's quite difficult to remember the original intention was to drain the f*ckin' swamp....:)>
*WOMAN’S DIARY * Saw him in the evening and he was acting really strangely. I’d been shopping in the afternoon with the girls and was a bit late meeting him. I thought it might be that the bar was really crowded and loud, so I suggested we go somewhere quieter to talk. He was still very subdued and distracted so I suggested we went somewhere nice to eat. All through dinner he just didn’t seem himself - he hardly laughed and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to me or to what I was saying, I just knew that something was wrong. He dropped me back home and I wondered if he was going to come in. He hesitated but followed. I asked him what was wrong, but he just half shook his head and turned the television on. After about ten minutes of silence I said that I was going upstairs to bed. I put my arms around him and told him that I loved him deeply. He just gave a sigh and a sad sort of smile. He didn’t follow me up immediately but came up later and to my surprise, we made love - but he still seemed distant and a bit cold. I cried myself to sleep. I think he’s planning to leave me. Maybe he’s found someone else. - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - MAN’S DIARY Saturday 28 July United lost. Gutted. Got a shag though.
And the moral of the story is - don’t overthink things:)
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