A Silly Story!!

                A Hair Full

 
    I have a problem.  Birds are laying eggs in my hair.  I woke this morning and there were eggs in my hair.  Birds must think my hair is a nest, but my hair is not a nest.  It may be a mess, but it most certainly is not a nest. 

    I decide to talk to a tree to understand why  birds are choosing me.  At first, the tree I choose is silent.   Then it asks if I like to hum.  “Yes, I do like to hum.”

     “My experience,” said the tree, “is that birds lay their eggs where there is a most pleasant hum.  Look at me, for example.  I like to hum.”  I look.  The tree is covered with nests, and those nests are filled with eggs.  There is a pleasant hum. 

      I think about humming.  I love to hum, and I love to stand with my arms spread wide.  Of course, I also love to run, spin, somersault, and cartwheel.   Only sometimes do I look and sound like a tree.  Perhaps those sometimes are enough. But where are the nests then?  Am I a nest or am I a tree?  How am I perceived?

     My friend Totem walks up, and looks at the eggs in my hair.  “Why are you sprouting eggs in your hair?”

     “I’m not sprouting eggs in my hair,” I say.  “Birds are laying eggs in my hair.” 

    “Ah,” he says.  “I see.”  But what does he see?   As he walks off, he adds, “Some snakes lay eggs, and turtles do, too.”

    Snakes lay eggs?  And, turtles too?   Does my hair look like a mass of reeds, a head of grass? 

     Humming,  I walk to the lake.  I watch the ducks, and hum.  Am I  heard?  Seen? 

     I am watching carefully now.  Am I also watched, and  carefully?

     I touch the eggs in my hair.  Do I hear humming within?   Are they bird, snake, or turtle hums?  

     My friend Sue walks up.  “Why are there eggs in your hair?” she asks.  “Did lizards lay them there?”   Lizards! This is too much.  I thought my problem was birds laying eggs in my hair, but now, it turns out it might be snakes, turtles, lizards.  What is going on?  Meanwhile, Sue sets up her telescope, and waits for the moon to rise.

      I shake my head, wanting to shake this whole problem out of my hair, but the eggs are stuck.  They are stuck like stickers,  thistles,  tape.   Tape?

      I take one egg and pull.  The egg comes off, and stuck to the egg is tape.  That egg was taped to my hair.  Who would tape eggs to my hair? 

      Then, I remember.  The day before I had seen a plastic rabbit filled with candy eggs.  I had said I wanted a “Hare, Full of Eggs.”

      My friend Sam walks by with a tape dispenser. He is humming too.  Spring  is in the air.

Have fun today, whether or not you have hair or a hare.  Know eggs are springing everywhere.