Wino Parrot


My bird is a wino. A long time ago I gave him a teeny tiny wee taste of red wine, and ever since then, if he sees me in the bar opening a bottle of wine, he makes his excited calls to let me know he would like to have whatever I'm having.

Because he's a lazy drunk, he's not bothered to learn how to say, "Dearest mother, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to taste a tiny drop of that fine vintage you're uncorking," and instead just repeats what he already knows: "Hi Henry!" "Hi Henry bird!" "HI!" "C'mere Henry!" "Wanna come out?" "Meow!"

Even hardcore boozers know how to sweet talk someone into sharing the hooch. But he does seem to have a well-developed palate for an animal that has to dig its food out of a bowl with a beak.

The problem is, once he tastes something he likes, he never forgets, so as I sit here enjoying my glass O red, he's over there repeating everything he knows how to say.

This is how I've learned how to tune out most types of annoying sounds, just like those moms at the store who seem blissfully unaware of their bratty kids barking "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Buy me this! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! MOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!"