That's a first...

I was sitting on a park bench the other day, eating my lunch. Nothing exciting, just peanut butter and jelly. It was good jelly though - my mom's rhubarb apricot.

I was sort of gazing off into space at one point, thinking about something like "ooh, I'm in the mood for a maple yogurt" or "why are my legs so white? It's the middle of the summer," when a flapping noise and a brush of feathers against my skin jolted me back to reality. Good lord, I had just been attacked by a sparrow.

Maybe "attacked" is a strong word. Maybe it was more like a breaking and entering, or a purse snatching. Facts are facts though - the bird blitzed past me and grabbed a piece of sandwich out of my hand. Guerilla style too, not a shy, hesitant, "oh, are you offering that to me? Maybe I'll have a little bite..."

In the lunch hours since, I've noticed little gangs of sparrows gathering around me whenever I eat. Dang.