Soundtrack. . .
As a veteran parent, I've made my share of mistakes. Saying "no" when I should have said "yes." Not thinking questions all the way through. Giving partial answers. Leaving the door open. Looking the other way because I was busy. Giving in to whining. That kind of thing.
Luckily, the consequences of my parenting mistakes have been . . . fairly mild. Sure, I should've checked into the level of supervision at that one sleepover. . . but nothing ended up being reported to the police. And, yeah, I should have been much more explicit about what could or could not be done to "modify" one's muffler . . . but he paid for the repairs. And, I-know-I-know, I should've been much more cautious about that "nice, handsome young man" . . . but she got over it. And I can't deny that my daughter's bedroom is painted in three-colors-of-hideous . . . but I can always re-do it.
For a long time, my biggest parenting mistake was . . . not getting Erin out of her sadistic 4th grade teacher's classroom (sorry about that, Erin). She survived, of course, but I do have regrets. But now. . . I am living with the consequences of what can only be described as My Biggest Parenting Mistake of All Time.
Meet. . . Puck.
Puck is a Quaker Parrot. He's about 3 years old, and he belongs to my son. He came to live with us as a baby bird. He is loud. He is messy. He is territorial. He adores Brian. In fact, he thinks Brian is his "mate." He hates the rest of us. Hates.
And how did Puck come to live with us? BECAUSE I SAID YES. And there you have it. Biggest Parenting Mistake of All Time.
And now. . . now. . . I must live with the consequences! Literally. Because. . . Quaker parrots live a long, long, long time (like. . . 30 - 50 years). And. . . because Quaker parrots need a lot of space (big cage; really big; piece-of-furniture big). And . . . they need human interaction and social stimulation; along with daily care and cleaning.
Clearly, I did not think this one all the way through. Because. . . Brian is leaving for college at the end of August. And he can't take Puck. So. Guess what?
I HAVE A BIRD!!!!
A bird I'm not overly fond of. A bird who hates me. A bird who talks and poops all the time. A bird who has just moved into my office space with me. (Brian is hoping we can "bond" before he leaves for college.)
I am definitely living with the consequences. It's going to be interesting. . .