Tubby Allen Poe

My Iphone plays the "bell tower" tone at 5:40 am on weekdays. I roll out of what was once known as Ron and Jess's spare bed, now is known as Dan's bed, and will one day be known as Dan and Gabourey's bed.







After a quick shower, teeth brushing, and a self motivational talk into the mirror, I head to the living room to have a cup of coffee, watch sportcenter, and see what Robin Meade is wearing for the day. I enjoy this alone time. I find it peaceful and it has a calming influence on the rest of my day.



Two weeks ago, I began my morning routine as usual. Bell tower, shower, teeth cleaning, "you are the best at life" into the mirror, and down the stairs to Newman’s extra bold, channel 1052, and my lovely Robin.



As I turned the corner I started looking at my work phone, or the socks in my hand, something to distract me. I am about to throw my socks into Tub's recliner and turn to the kitchen as per usual, I look up to see Tubby sitting in his chair, wrapped in a white afghan, looking disturbingly like the virgin Mary. Luckily I hadn’t yet put my socks on, so I did not need to put a clean pair on.



"What the fuck are you doing" I question as I heart resumes a normal pattern and I pick myself off the floor.



"That fucking Bird"



With a sympathetic tone "Ronnie, what bird... What bird are you talking about?"

"There is a “Fucking Bird” in the tree outside our bedroom window. It starts making “Fucking Bird” noises at 5am every morning"

Apparently there is a “Fucking Bird” that sits in the tree outside their window that starts making “Fucking Bird” noises at 5am every morning (see above). I have heard the afore mentioned "Fucking Bird". I think it may be a mocking bird, not that I know that for sure, as I am not a bird connoisseur, but my pal Dale once pointed out a mocking bird to me, and it sounded the same, plus it apparently changes its tune every 15mins.

I am afraid that the "Fucking Bird" is slowing driving Tubby mad, "The Shining" style. I am afraid that I am going to come home one day and tubby will be sitting Indian style on the floor with a spaghetti strainer on his head typing nevermore over and over again in the laptop.



Plus, I don’t want to say this for sure, but I believe this to be the reason that Jess moved to Albany (the “Fucking Bird”, not the spaghetti strainer fears). She told me that she had putt cotton balls in her ears and a pillow over her head, and could still hear it over a fan and a noise maker (actual noise maker, not Tubby staining to breath in his sleep).



Tubby jammed hotdogs in his ears and bit his pillow, that didn’t work either.



Tub has now moved to thoughts of violence against the “Fucking Bird”, which I am all for, if it curbs his thoughts of violence towards me. So until that day when he snaps and climbs the tree at 5am in his boxers, with a golf club in his teeth, I will keep the knifes and strainer safety tucked away, and sleep sounding next to Gabourey with the door locked.