How infuriating! These pesky little creatures! Day by day, I serve as their landing pad! And what does Father do about it? Nothing at all. It's always the same old excuse: "Sorry, I'm simply too thick to shake them off." And Wind! Oh, that Wind! Couldn't cut me some slack and whisk the little creatures away? They enjoy spreading their wings and floating in its course. No, too busy spreading seeds. No, I should be grateful to exist because of its job. How would you like to be landed on, be used as a pit stop? And when they nest on me- oh boy, when they nest on me—I just want to shake the pile loose and see how their offspring like the ground. Menacing? Me? No. I'm just a branch! I can only put up with so much! Have you ever had birds lined up across you? I think not, human. Take a look from my perspective. Birds are pests. I will never understand why you invite them to sit on your shoulders.


Poor branch! I bet it would feel better if you reviewed.