Friday, June 25, 2010

Returning to the Scene of the Crime

Bluebird eggs at risk yesterday with the arrival of the Demon Kid

Remember a few weeks ago that I posted that someone had torn out the swallow bird nest (with live baby swallows in it) when Bill and I were on vacation down South?  I did a little sleuthing and came to the conclusion that it was the eight year old Hispanic boy who was with the lawn maintenance guy that my neighbor Tom had doing his lawn.

My neighbor Tom's Hispanic lawn maintenance crew yesterday arrives

Bill had pointed out to me before "how cute" the kid was with his hyperactive antics whenever he accompanied his dad (?) to his lawn maintenance job.  Thus, it didn't take too much to figure out who opened the bluebird box that contained the live baby swallows.  It had to take someone about three feet tall to reach up and put his greasy little finger in the open and pull the wooden door down because the latch was still in place.  At first I couldn't figure out how the door got open with the latch still in place.  I thought maybe a cat or another animal got into the bird box.  But to have the strength to pull the latch?  No, couldn't be.

After running different scenarios through my mind, this hyper active kid popped to the front.  Yes, this would be something that a curious, hyperactive, unsupervised, eight year old brat would do.  I went back out to the bird box to look for evidence.  Almost immediately I saw a small indentation in the thyme that I have planted at the base of the bird box.  In fact, right at the very base is a wild rose bush.  The indentation was to the left.  Viola!  That's why he put his finger up to hook it into the hole that is the opening to the bird box.  Once he opened the bird box he was too short to see into the nest so he obviously put his stinking, dirty, greasy little paw up to the nest and pulled it out.  He was probably very pleased to find four naked, three day old baby swallows in the nest.  His short attention span was satiated if only for a moment.

When Bill and I discovered the bird box door was open the next morning after we returned from our trip, I immediately went out to see what happened.  I saw the empty nest on the ground.  No baby swallows.  No adult swallows.  Gone.

Not knowing what else to to, I put the neatly built nest (which was cushioned by many down feathers from unknown birds) back in the bird box, hoping the adult swallows return and lay more eggs.  The determined sparrows do it so why not the swallows?  Well, it was not to be.

The bird box remained empty for two week until a week ago when the blue birds returned. Hallelujah!  This was great news!  The blue birds had returned.  For the past two years the blue birds have raised two batches of baby bluebirds in that box.  This year, right on cue in early April the blue birds returned only to be met by a very determined sparrow.  The determined sparrow had already killed a swallow in that bird box plus in another bird box.  I guess the blue birds assumed it was too dangerous to build a nest in that bird box this year.  They left and the swallows took over.  Oh, Bill took care of the determined sparrow.  He trapped it and "disposed" of it.  One less sparrow in the world, hooray!

We figured if we couldn't have the bluebirds raising their young in that bird box this year, at least the swallows would have a chance.  That is until the ADHD monster arrived on the scene.

I told Bill "He'll be back."  Bill said, "No, I think that was a one time job Tom (our neighbor) had done."  I disagreed.  I said to Bill, "Oh no, that little destructive monster will be back."  And sure enough, yesterday the little hyperactive brat was back.  However, this time he was staying in the truck.

A ha!  Either his dad knew what he did or this ADHD kid caused trouble at some of his other job locations.  I wanted to go out immediately and have words with Miguel (or whatever his name is.)  Manual, Poncho, Pedro....whatever.  Probably Jesus pronounced "Hey Zeus!"

Bill said don't do anything unless he gets out of the truck.  I agreed with Bill.  I went to our second floor and kept an eagle eye on that truck.  Occasionally I would see The Brat popping out of the driver's window.  One time he was almost all the way out.  This kid has so much energy, he could hardly contained himself.  I figured now was the time to go out and have a discussion with his dad Jorge (pronounced Whore Hey!) or whatever his name is (Juan, Carolos, Fernando or Pablo - take your pick.)

As I was walking towards dad Jose (pronounced Hose Hey!) on his tractor, he stopped immediately and looked at me with dread.  He knew this was trouble.  The kid pokes his stupid little head out the driver's side of dad's truck, a HUGE smile on his face.  This kid is ready to do Major Destruction.  I say "Ola", which I think is a standard form of Hispanic greeting.  But then my Spanish fails me.  I know a few words like "Amigo", and "Gracias" but none of those words will apply to this situation.  I figure the best thing to do is speak very slowly in English (or as they say "Inglis") and do a lot of motioning with my hands.

The Little Terror has the driver's side door open, ready to pop out and cause mayhem

I got his attention.  Pointing to his brat in the truck I say "Someone opened that bird box (I point to the bird box) and took out the nest."  Pointing to his monster, I say "I have reason to believe that it was him!"  I continue (motioning my arms wildly hoping this would make him understand I am really pissed), "No! No! No!"  And pointing to destructive little monster that he has in the truck, I say "An this isn't funny!" (like he understood me.  Made me feel good to say it.)

I motioned again to the bird box and say as loud as I can "NO!"  I think I got through.  In fact, the look on Hector's face (or whatever his name is), led me to believe that he thought I was going to deport him.  I am certain he is an illegal.  He just had that look of utter terror when I approached him.

Once back in our house I continued to monitor the situation.  The Devil's Spawn kept popping in and out of the driver's side window.  Then about a half an hour later went to the door and said something to the kid and opened the door.  Damien sprung out and ran to the side of the house.  Obviously a bathroom call.  After pissing on the side of my neighbor Tom's house he ran right back to the truck and hopped into the cab just like his father Alejandro (pronounced "Alley Hand Dro") told him to do.
Note the Devil's Spawn running towards the tree to take a pee

After his dad finished the lawn mowing (along with another illegal who collected the grass and it in another truck), he opened the door of his truck to let his kid out.  Immediately ADHD kid was doing cartwheels on my neighbor's lawn.  Damn, this kid has about as much energy as that BP induced oil volcano in the Gulf of Mexico.  GET HIM OUT OF HERE!

They left around 5 o'clock.  I could finally take my afternoon nap, secure in the knowledge that a destructive, wild child wasn't going to destroy another bird nest.
The Illegals with their Monster Brat getting out of Dodge

This morning I went out to check the blue bird house and found that another egg has been added.  This make one more to go.  Bluebirds usually lay four eggs.  They take about a week to hatch and about four weeks for the bluebirds to grow into maturity.  During that time I am positive that Pedro, Diego or (oh no, this couldn't be his name "Angel" and Pancho will return.  When they do I will be ready for them.
I'm calling Immigration this time.

The bluebird nest today, a third egg.  Safe...for the time being.


  1. Good job Ron, don't let that little brat out of your sight. As we say here in L.A. about the Mexicans, "if they can't steal it, they will destroy it".

  2. Mike,
    I wanted to wring the little brat's neck. Him and that stupid assed smile. He couldn't wait to do his destruction. I'm ready for him. Most of our illegals around here are Hondurans and Guatemalans. Some Mexicans but more Central Americans. Same difference. Lots of them here. Usually they're no trouble and keep to themselves but this kid is bad news. We're not finished with him yet.


  3. I think the term is "Latin American". AKA assholes.

  4. Mike,
    Our Friday Night Dine Out Group met in Millsboro (18 miles into central Delaware) tonight. First time for that location. Boy was I out of my element. A lot of straight fat people and MANY Latinos. Uh huh. I won't be returning anytime soon. Back to my Gayberry enclave here on the eastern shore.


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