I Am Never Opening a Window Again

Yesterday I had a window in the living room cracked open to air out the flat a bit and take advantage of the warm (high of 60°F) day.

I was happily reading a book on the couch when I heard a rustle and looked up.  I saw a gray blob on the windowsill and thought "oh shit, a rat is finally making its appearance despite the realtor claiming that the property had no rodent problems."  Then it started flying wildly.  

A BIRD hopped into the living room, with the ~4 inch clearance from my tilted window.  As it started bouncing off the walls, I ran out of the room and slammed the door shut.  Every time I edged open the door, it would leave its perch and start flying crazily all around the room, bouncing off the walls and windows.  Patting my pockets for my phone, I realized that I had left behind my mobile, the sole land line in the house and the computer.  I ran outside seeing if I could force open the window to give the bird access out or find a neighbor to catch it.  I had no luck with either so I ran back inside and found the iPad to contact H at work.

Subject Line:  HELP!!!!  A bird flew into living room.

Message: Shut door but can't get it out.  Afraid to go back in.

Thirty seconds later, still no response.  So I e-mailed H again.

Subject Line:  I'm afraid it's going to poop all over.

Message:  Don't think it can get out...it hopped in.

Ten seconds later, still no response.  So logically, I e-mailed H again.

Subject Line: Please come home, it's gross.

Message: Phones are all trapped in living room.

And then followed up with:

Subject Line:  It's perched on chandelier over new rug.
Message:  It's going to poop on it!!!!!!

After running back outside again to see if I could tell what was going on through the window, I ran back into the flat and frantically refreshed my e-mail.  Still no response from H...so I cracked open the living room door and ran with my head down to grab my mobile phone, ran out again and slammed the door shut.

Text message to H:  CALL ME!!!!!!!

Right away, the phone rang.  I explained/shouted into the phone about the bird stuck in the living room.  And H calmly responded:

1. That he wasn't coming home (despite it being closer to 6 than 5).
2. How to get the window open further which would require me going into the living room again (not happening).
3. That it wasn't a big deal (despite constant reminders that it could poop everywhere).
4. That I should calm down (see above comment re: poop).

I hung up the phone and decided to ignore the bird until H came home to catch it/kill it/shoo it out and disinfect the entire living room.

An hour and a half later, H came home bearing the gift of carpet cleaner.  He went into the living room searching for the bird, only to find that it had somehow managed to escape.  It did however leave behind trails of bird shit across our windowsills, down a blind and on both the living room carpet and our brand new rug.

I am not a happy camper...