The Next Billy Bishop of Birds

So, today's entry is kinda random, but I figured that I should post it for a chuckle. 

Well, the other day I was driving in the car with my family after a trip to some stores in Kingston, when we started to drive onto the highway. Now, all that day, my younger siblings had been sick and snotting all over each other and themselves. Being a germaphobe and sitting next to both kids, I was trapped in my own private (and ironic) hell. We had the sunroof open and I was enjoying the nice breeze and the warmth of the sun on my face when I heard a splat and felt something gross land on my face and hair. I turned to the one closest to myself and told them calmly (or so I'd like to think, I think I was closer to a near hysteria) to cover their mouths when they sneeze, when I realized that the mark on my jacket (also a target to whatever hit me in the face) was a light brown and white colour. Horrified, I looked at my mom in the front seat, who had turned to see what all the yelling was about, when her face changed from confusion to hilarity in a matter of seconds. Dear God, why did I have to be crapped on by one of your feathered friends? Better yet, how in the hell did a sparrow the size of my thumb manage to dump a load through a sunroof, into a car, into the backseat of the car, while driving at 120 kilometers per hour no less?? That bird's got some hell of a strategy. 

So, on the verge of crying from humiliation, germs and irony, I had to let out a laugh. It drives me nuts when this happens to me, because I was actually mad. Of course by now, the entire car has discovered what's happened, and everyone's laughing. Mom was crying while I sat in a somewhat picturesque pose in the backseat; my lip quivering while the tears were brimming. It was then that I thought of a quote I had heard sometime ago and I could not help but to laugh. 

Shit happens. 

Whoever wrote this was not kidding. I wondered how they came about the phrase. Had they too been hit by an oncoming load of poop? Or had they stepped in a pile of cow patty while on a midnight venture of cow-tipping?

My point today, dear friends, is that shit happens. It's a part of life, how you choose to deal with the pile of crap stuck to your shoe or cemented into your hair, is entirely your choice. Myself? I went home, washed my hair and changed my shirt before going to a family gathering and getting even dirtier.