Get Heckle & Jeckle the hell out of my garage before I have a stroke!

In case you’ve been hanging out here waiting for the news, I was still sitting at my desk when Sam finally got home from work this morning at 2:30. He gives me a smooch, changes his clothes, brushes his teeth and comes back into the study to announce that we’ve got “a cute pair of doves” sitting on the ceiling of our garage. Here’s the ensuing conversation.

Me:   “Say that again.”
Sam: “There are two doves in the garage. I think they’re a nesting pair.”
Me:   “Holy crap. You’re going back out there to get rid of them, right?”
Sam: “Now?”
Me:   “Now.”
Sam: “They’re really not bothering anybody.”
Me:   “GET HECKLE & JECKLE THE HELL OUT OF MY GARAGE BEFORE I
           HAVE A STROKE!”
Sam: “Okay.”

So I send poor Sam back into the garage at 3 in the morning, he opens the garage door, grabs a broom and whacks at the birds until they figure out I HATE THEIR FLUFFY LITTLE GUTS. Sam says Heckle left immediately but Jeckle gave him a hard time. (This is no surprise whatsoever.)

I think it’s time for lunch. I’m seriously considering baloney on white bread and one of my world-famous goofy fruity shakes; Sam will have chicken and potatoes because I don’t think he gets enough real food, not counting Mrs. Fields ice cream sandwiches.

I’ll be back later. Thank you for reading this.