All This For A Christmas Gift

I searched through the never-ending aisles of Costco, looking for something to feed my Christmas gift. Do I know what it eats? No. Is that stopping me? No. I picked up two cans of Mac n' Cheese and debated which one it would like. Does it even like Mac n' Cheese? Of course, it does! Everyone likes Mac n' Cheese. Not me. I immediately dropped the cans on a random shelf. Grumbling, I pushed my trolley and continued searching. All this trouble for a Christmas gift.

The thought then hit me, and I froze, bumping into a lady in front of me. What does it wear?! Does it even wear clothes? What does it drink? Water? Tea? Butterbeer? What about sleeping? Will it sleep in my bed? Outside? In a 5 star hotel? Oh, god. Why is this happening to me? I pushed the trolley again, earning a few cries from the lady I bumped into. I was too zoned out to care. Why did I leave it home alone? It probably raided my fridge. Or maybe it found my secret stash of chocolate. Now I'm freaking out. I raced through the aisles, grabbing a frozen pizza, ramen noodles, milk, yogurt, and some fruit. Just to be safe, I also got some baby clothes that might fit it and a comfy pillow that had an image of a bird imprinted on it. It would make a nice bed. I smiled at my selection but then remembered my urgency. I practically threw myself at the cashier, and the rest was, well, blurry.

While driving home, I put on "No Tears Left To Cry" and started dancing along. Wait, WHERE DOES IT USE THE BATHROOM?! I thumped my head on the steering wheel. "OWWWWWWW!" All this, all of this, for a Christmas gift! It must have raided my fridge by now. I recognized my street and found my beloved house that was still standing. I parallel parked (not very well), got the groceries, and ran to the house. I heard the faint sound of music coming from inside. What on earth? Cautiously, I opened the door and was shook. Inside, on the kitchen counter, my Christmas gift was dancing to "Despacito." It was shaking its head, its feathers ruffling, revealing a beautiful golden crown of feathers perched on top of its head.

I stepped inside and carefully put the groceries on the counter. It continued dancing in a way that looked like its neck would snap. I looked around for the source of the music and discovered it was coming from Alexa. "Hey, bird? I'm gonna turn the music off now." 

It continued dancing, frantically shaking its head. It was dancing better than me. That is not acceptable. I was just about to tell Alexa to turn the music off when a horrible thought occurred to me. What if it attacks me? I would definitely attack someone if they turned my music off.

I rushed to my room, the music becoming fainter the closer I got to it. I put on a thick sweater and wrapped my heaviest shawl around me. This should protect me from any upper body attacks. I squeezed on another pair of jeans and finished it off with my winter gloves. I glanced at my reflection. I looked ridiculous. I waddled back to the kitchen, and it was still dancing its heart out. I should probably name it instead of calling it, it. Grandma said its name was Bella, but that just reminded me of Bellatrix, so it's a no on that name. Grandma was a bird trainer and worked with Parrots. She said that Bella was very intelligent, whatever that meant. Maybe I'll name it Molly. Yeah, that's a good name.

I waddled to the couch and crouched behind it. 

"Alexa, silence."

I braced myself for talons scratching the life out of me, and a sharp beak pointed right at my eye. Nothing happened. I got up and looked at the kitchen counter only to see that Molly was gone. I turned my head, and they're right in front of me was Molly. "Wahghhhhhh!" My heart was beating faster than you could say Quidditch. I eyed Molly looking for any signs of attack, but none came. Molly suddenly clicked her beak. "Why," she croaked. I wasn't shocked that she could talk. The night that I received her as a gift, she called my sister "a talking duck." It wasn't the best insult but coming out of a parrot; it was hilarious. I just stared at the crazy bird in disbelief. Molly clicked her beak again. "Why turn the music off?" 

Oh. She wasn't going to attack me. She just wanted music. "Ok, um, listen, Molly." Her name rolled off my tongue. It felt unfamiliar and strange. "Listen, bird. I bought you some stuff, ok. I have no idea what you eat, so I got some noodles and other things cause I have no idea what you eat." Did I just repeat myself? My face heated with embarrassment. I took off my armour (it was quite a hilarious sight), rushed to the counter, and opened the plastic bag. So much for save the turtles. I paused, and worry hit me. I lunged at the fridge and yanked it open. Ah good. Everythings there. Chocolate. To the trash can we go. I slowly lifted the bag from inside the trashcan, too scared to see if my beloved was down there.

Sweat beaded on my forehead and found its way into my eye. Please be there. I peaked inside and... AHHHHHHH!!!!! IT'S THERE!! MY CHOCOLATE HAS SURVIVED! There was a small, heavily locked box made of steel at the bottom of the can. I did a little victory dance. Who cares if there's a bird judging me this very moment? Not me. I continued dancing for a few more moments and then starting unpacking the groceries as if nothing happened. After a while, I felt as if something was staring little bird daggers at me. "What?"

"Birdseed."

"Bird what?"

"Birdseed."

Ohhhhh. That's a thing? Nah, it's not. A brilliant person like myself would have known. "I don't know what rubbish you're talking about, Molly." 

The name rolled off my tongue again. It felt somewhat natural now. Molly did an impression of a human huff. "Birdseed. I want birdseed."

Ah, stupid bird. 

"No," I said in a stern voice. "Birdseed doesn't exist. Now I'm going to make you some delicious noodles and not because it's the only thing I can make."

"and it's going to be delicious," I added. 

"Delicious," she repeated. 

"Yes, delicious." Finally, someone who's going to appreciate my cooking! The noodles were now sizzling, and I was exhausted. Cooking is harder than it looks. I walked to the couch and slumped down. Molly hopped towards me and plopped next to me. I eyed her. "What do you want?"

"Molly wants birdseed." 

I groaned. "Molly, no. I made noodles, ok?"

I grinned. "I have an idea. Let's go try out your clothes."

Molly cocked her head to the side. "Clothes?"

I brought the bag and struggled to put a t-shirt on her. She must have been so embarrassed to be naked in front of me. After trying and trying without success, I tugged one last time and "OUCHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" 

SHE BIT ME! My finger burned, and I felt lightheaded. Molly, instead of apologizing, started screeching and flapping her wings. "Spill! Spill! Delicious! Spill!"

The smell of smoke invaded my nose, adding to the pain in my head. THE NOODLES! I ran (very weirdly) to the noodles and drowned them in cold water in the sink. "Window. Window," Molly squawked. 

What window? Oh yeah. I opened the window, but it was too late. "BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP."

The fire alarm. Great, I thought I broke that months ago (too many incidents similar to this one). I took a cloth and fanned the alarm with my right arm. The bitten one was now swollen and bleeding. Tears pooled up in my eyes. With my blurry eyes, I glanced around for Molly. I hate this animal. It's all her fault. I stopped fanning the alarm and found the horrid creature in front of me with the t-shirt. "So now you want to wear it?" I cringed as my voice cracked. Molly dropped the shirt in front of me. "For finger. Sorry. Molly bad bird." 

Molly looked at me with hope. I sighed and "BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP," the alarm sang.

Curse that alarm! It always tricks me! Furiously I fanned it with the cloth, and it stopped. I was really feeling the pain in my finger now. I went to the icebox and grabbed an ice cube. I need to wrap it around something. Just then, Molly hopped onto the counter and nudged the t-shirt towards me. "For finger." I sighed and patted her. All this, all this, for a Christmas gift.