Cheeky Cherry’s Dating Dilemma’s

And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

One of my oldest college friends just finished a 2 year term of med school in the Cayman Islands and while sitting at dinner with him tonight, I couldn’t help but think of all the fun times we had together.

It was the beginning of December. Christmas time was upon us and my guy Abram, whom worked in retail sales, pretty much lived in the store during the holiday season. I had just moved in with Abe. Bliss. 

It was a cold winter…the central heat was broken, so we had borrowed and electric heater from my folks. The house was huge and the one little heater could only heat up so much, so we basically lived in the bedroom from December through March. Hibernation. 

A week or so into my new living space, I was home alone after I got off work. Or so I thought. I’m sitting at my computer, bedroom door closed to keep the heat in by me…I hear a noise coming from somewhere else in the house. I call out, thinking it’s one of Abe’s brothers maybe? No answer. 

But I could hear someone digging in the box full of wrapping paper I had sitting right on the other side of the bedroom door. I didn’t know what else to do, so I plugged my curling iron in, let it get nice and hot, unplugged it, swung open the door and braved going in to the rest of the house. I was ready to bust somebody up with my hot iron.

I got to the living room and something swooped down in front of my face. A bird-in the house! He flew around the living room for a few seconds, then perched on a branch in the fake Christmas tree. I couldn’t believe that had just happened. I call Abe, but get his voicemail. How am I supposed to get this bird out of the house?! That had never in my life happened to me before.

Ski! My oldest college friend who now just lived a few blocks away. I call him. Unable to stop laughing hard enough to tell Ski the story so that he can understand it, he mistakes the word ‘bird’ for ‘burglar’. And rushes over to our house with his roommate Matt ready to kick some burglar booty. 

By the time they arrived, I had closed the bird in the bedroom. So the guys go in the bedroom…I waited in the living room because I didn’t want the bird to get scared and poop on me. The door is closed and all I can hear is stuff getting knocked over and the boys laughing hysterically. Finally, they walk out…with the bird wrapped up in my LSU blanket. Victorious. 

I started picking up things around the room and noticed a little bird poop on Abe’s dresser. I thought about leaving it until he got home that night because I didn’t think he’d ever believe my story. But I cleaned it up, like any good little Susie Homemaker would do.