Bombers And Babies

Every year, without fail, a pair of barn swallows manage to sneak into my garage and nest in the rafters. They can't be the same pair, not for this many years. It is clearly a case of a family tradition with them... passing on the location of the garage like a state secret.

It's become a battle with them, as each Spring I take desperate measures to try and keep them out. I park outside for days, so I don't have to open the garage and have them sneak in. I shout at them when I find them in there anyway, starting to build a nest.

Eventually I am forced to give up and concede the battle. *sigh*

At that point, I actually make an effort to get up and let them out of the garage every day. Yeah, I'm whipped by a pair of barn swallows. I know.

This year I have spent a lot of time watching them. This has not always been the best idea, as once their eggs hatched the parents took turns dive bombing anyone who came in or out of the garage. Many times I have had to slam the house door leading into garage to avoid being hit and the birds flying into my house! Running to our car with our arms over our heads hasn't been all that entertaining either. I won't even go into the gifts that they leave ON my car.

Still, I have been able to observe the family as it grew. I knew the moment the eggs hatched, because the parents were zooming around the garage making a huge racket. I thought they were being attacked by something, but it just turned out that they were proud parents. I saw little ugly creatures stick their beaks up and whine to be fed.

And then I saw the chicks enter into what could only be described as the teenage years. At first it started with them being half-fluffed out ugly things that tried to sit on the edge of the nest, and kept getting yelled at by a parent when it would swoop back in. Then they started yelling BACK at the parents.


It got so bad that both parents would fly off while a chick was in the middle of a tirade, and then when he stopped and looked around he'd let out a little "Where'd ya go?" peep. (The picture was after one of those. I think the mom there is giving the chick "the eye". You know, that "If you are going to live in MY NEST it will be BY MY RULES!!!" look.)

While I found it immensely amusing, I am finding myself more and more concerned as my own children approach those years. My daughter is already pushing limits with me, albeit small ones. She leaves wet towels on the floor when I tell her to pick them up, "forgets" to put her dishes away, etc. Not exactly throw-down behavior... but she's pretty much been the perfect child anyway, which I figure means I'm in for a lot of trouble when she truly hits her teenage stride.

I wonder if I'm going to be afraid to come back to my nest too? At least those birds never had to worry about handing over the car keys!