I responded to a personals ad the other day, something I haven’t done for a while. When I was working at Mindspring, I had kind of a personals-ad problem, I would respond to about 20 a day, so I have avoided it as part of my great understanding that ONLINE DATING IS HORRIBLE. Anyways, I didn’t get a response.
The ad is gone now, but my response is below.
I saw the little pouty lip thing there in your picture, and thought of something my mother used to say.
“If you keep that lip out, a bird is going to come land on it and poop in your mouth.”
For whatever reason, I always assumed it would be a hummingbird. That was the only one I could see being small enough to perch on my lip and defecate in my mouth from there, all the other birds I was aware of (aside from maybe like the cactus wren, or the common sparrow) would be shitting on my cheek or forehead. And the wren and sparrow aren’t as fast as the hummingbird, they wouldn’t be able to get up there, get on the lip and shit in the mouth without me flinching or something.
And I thought that was ballsy. I mean, a hummingbird is small, really small, and even just a passing swipe of the hand could do some serious harm to its inner machinery. Or if, god forbid, I was fast enough to open my mouth and eat it, it wouldn’t stand a chance. Just no two ways about it, they were troopers, going out there, shitting in children’s mouths, risking life and limb and for what? The paltry pay of some red sugar water in a jug on the porch seemed out of proportion to the risk…
And that’s when it hit me. They were fighting for an _ideal_. They understood the risks, they understood the sugar water pay, they saw all their brothers killed, swiped by faster children with better hand-eye coordination, but they fought just the same. A song in their fast-beating hearts; a song about a day when mothers wouldn’t have to deal with whiny children.