Every morning around the same time, I feed the birds. Today was no different except it was my first day back home since the yearly calendar date has changed.
With a bag of birdseed in one hand, and a Ziploc® bag of shredded bread and crushed almonds in the other, I slip on my puffy new Christmas slippers, open the door, breathe in 5 degree air, tippy-toe across the snow covered patio, and quickly fill the various feeding feeders and spots for the animals.
With immediately frozen nose hairs, dead digits, and now solid lungs, like some hunched-over, scared frozen ape, I quickly scurry back across the snow, joyfully making the return path back inside.
Glancing at the door of my warm, coffee imbued abode that has been left ajar, with my now iced-bottomed slippers I decide to gracefully glide back inside by leaping over the door saddle, taking a 7’ wide giant jump inside like some Olympic long jumper wannabe, and onto the waxed wooden floors.
Much like a 1940's Tom & Jerry cartoon, I slip so hard that the bottom of my left foot was parallel to the sky, and my head bounced off the floor with the conviction of a basketball dribbled by LeBron James during playoffs.
In some abstract position, seen never before by man, like some genetically deformed fallen snow angel sporting half a bag of birdseed in my ear canals, I just laid there and laughed, and laughed like a tickled toddler.
Hello 2018. Starting the new year with a bang.
Let’s do this.
