Hinting Won’t Get You a Parrot

We’re back home. Huzzah! And there were presents waiting here for us. So awesome. There was even a package from Cailin with some cute items from The Great Clothes Swap, including some soft, shiny pants that will be perfect for traveling.

I don’t know when I turned into a practical Likes Underwear and Socks for My Birthday kind of girl, but, I have to admit, I like practical presents.

Give me a cord of firewood and I’m happy.

But there is something about getting a gift for your birthday that is just totally decadent and unnecessary. Like makeup or a sparkly handbag or a tiny hat that doesn’t even cover your ears.

Usually, when I have a hankering for something like this, I send out psychic messages and usually someone picks up on it. Barrett is especially good at this.

Last year was the Russian Czarina coat with the fur trim (which is not exactly Portland-drizzle-friendly) that Barrett got me.

Sadly, this year, no one got my pyschic message.

I know that it would be a lot of work to fly to New Zealand, buy ninja gear, decontaminate yourself, sneak onto a tiny island preserve, steal a rare endangered parrot, and smuggle it to Portland, but I would be such a good kakapo mom!

I tried hinting around, mentioning how awesome kakapo parrots are—they’re sweet and friendly, have super soft fur and whiskers, do mating dances for the ladies, make all sorts of interesting booming noises and things, PLUS THEY SMELL LIKE HONEY!!!

I even left this book lying around.

Since kakapos aren’t into flying, we could go for walks together and I’m sure the cats would keep him warm and incredibly clean.

It would be the happiest kakapo parrot in existence.

I swear.

Maybe for Christmas?

Love to you all,

Bridget