THIS week my peace was disturbed by the call of nature.
Not the call of nature that has you gripping your stomach before making a mad dash to the littlest room in the house but the real call of nature - which believe me, can be just as annoying.
I kept hearing pesky tap taps or dull thuds from outside when I was in the house.
At first I thought, "Here we go again the Jehovah's are at the door" but whenever I went to the front door, no one was there - which was both a blessing and a mystery.
For a while I blamed the kids for the racket (not an unreasonable assumption in my household) but that accusation fell over when the noises continued even when both of my little darlings were not even within cooee of the house - also a blessing and a mystery.
For the third time in the same afternoon, I opened the front door after hearing thuds and taps to find no one there except my dopey dog. After interrogating the dog without success I went back inside and, like some modern day Mata Hari, stood in waiting behind the closed blinds.
It didn't take long. Thud, tap, tap. I wrenched the blinds back to be met face-to-beak with the noisy culprit - and it wasn't an overweight tap dancer.
It was a pee wee, one of those small black and white birds with attitudes way too big for their tiny little bodies.
For some reason two of these birds had taken an unnatural shine to my front window and for almost a week had been dive-bombing off my garage roof and smacking up against the glass.
It was only a matter of time before one of these kamikaze pilots would go straight through the window.
I've already given enough money to glaziers thanks to my eldest's obsession with cricket and soccer balls so I wasn't about to lose another window without a fight.
I needed a plan of attack. I could stand outside the window all day, waving my arms and screaming abuse but with two kids I'm already pretty busy doing that on the inside of the house.
Hubby's helpful suggestion of putting a mirror in the nearest tree did nothing to attract the attention of the birds, although it certainly attracted the attention of the neighbours.
So I moved on to Plan B.
Stick something on the window that would scare the crap out of them. I could've gone with the candid photo of me in a pair of swimmers taken on our last holiday but I had the neighbours to consider so I raided the kids' rooms for posters to tape up on the window instead.
I was hoping for something really scary - a pic of Kim Kardashian without her make-up would have done the job nicely but I had to settle for an old poster of Spider-Man.
No joy. If anything, it seemed to encourage the little daredevils.
I was beginning to feel like Tippi Hedren in the Alfred Hitchcock movie, The Birds. Short of buying a shotgun, I was at my wit's end, until my youngest came up with an idea.
So, if you should drive past a house with a make-up mirror dangling in a tree, a poster of Spider-Man plastered on the front window and a big, fat rubber snake poking through the flyscreen, don't be alarmed, don't be afraid.
It's just one household answering the call of nature.
Family Taming is a weekly humour column.
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