When I was of pre-school age and early into my school years I used to be looked after by a family friend while Mum and Dad were working. Lyn transferred to me her love of baking and I have fond memories of sitting in her kitchen taking in the smell of the mixing bowl, then oven.
One day Lyn and I were returning home after a trip out...to the hairdresser, the shop...I am not sure. She put on her blinker and made the turn into her driveway and gasped, making a loud utterance simultaneously. This was unusual behaviour for Lyn. Her window had been slightly down, only about ten centimetres, but nevertheless a bird, I imagine a cheeky and cunning one, managed to aim their poo directly into the small gap to splat all over Lyn's face. It was a big one. I remember the joint feelings of surprise and puzzlement (I didn't know that could happen!), disgust and a stifled amusement. Lyn wasn't impressed. Even though they say it is lucky to be pooed on by a bird, I wouldn't put this in the lucky category.
Sera Waters
(memories from Mount Gambier)
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