Dear Diary, it is day one I was gifted a partridge in a pear tree, I won’t lie… I was surprised by the tree in the living room this morning. I love pears though and obviously my true love knows that. I assume he has put a lot of thought into this gift. I have to admit, I am weirded out by the bird, no doubt. I am going to let it slide. Maybe the only way he could buy a pear tree would be if the bird was included? I am not going to jump to conclusions. At least he tried.
Dear Diary, it is day 2 of 12, still feeling good about this idea. My true love gifted me two turtle doves. I am cutting him some slack because I think he got birds and dove chocolate confused.
Dear Diary, it is day three and my dog is not happy with me. At this point I am stressed because I currently have 6 birds shitting all over my house. I have a freaking partridge in the kitchen, two turtle doves chilling on the couch, and freaking French hens chirping away on the stove. I swear if you bock one more time French hen, I’m throwing you in the fire. I am concerned as to where my true love is getting these birds from.
Dear Diary, it is day four and I have cooked the French hens for dinner. I feel bad about it but they would not shut up. My husband knows that they disappeared but does not know why. He felt bad so he bought me 4 calling birds. They are useless and cannot actually call people or answer the phone. I am still worried about the supplier of these birds and why I have not yet received the 64 inch flat screen TV I had asked for.
Dear Diary, it is day five and I went to work with bird shit on my blouse but I came home to five golden rings. I think he knows I hated the birds and switched to jewelry. I am not upset about this trend and I hope it continues.
Dear Diary, it is day six and I am thinking about divorce. The geese and calling birds are in a dispute and have made my hallway into a war zone. I hate my true love and I hope he gets the bird flu.
Dear Diary, it is day seven and I haven’t showered in while because my true love put seven swans in my freaking shower. I have called every pet store and zoo within 400 miles and none of them are missing any exotic birds. I think my true love is a part of the black market. I do not actually hope by true love gets the bird flu but I have started to pack my things.
Dear Diary, it is day eight and I now know that my true love is a part of the black market. There were 8 women in colonial costumes milking cows. It was the strangest thing I have ever seen. I gifted the maids the birds and sent them on their way. I do not think my true love knows how to give gifts. I have given up hope on the flat screen and I am now hoping for a gift card. I have started moving things to my parent’s house.
Dear Diary, it is day nine and I have called the authorities. My true love has gifted me 9 ladies that dance. I am traumatized. The birds have found their way back. At this point I do not think I will make it to Christmas.
Dear Diary, it is day 10 and I have cooked all the birds. The calling birds tasted the worst. I have found that swans do not fit into a stove top pan. Today I woke up with the expectation of getting a real gift. I was wrong. Leaping lords surrounded me as I made my coffee. One leaping lord is in the hospital because I punched him in the face. My true love has not realized I have moved all my things.
Dear Diary, it is day 11 and I still have not received a gift card, flat screen, or even a dove chocolate. Instead I have 11 pipers pipping in my dining room. My dog has ran away and I have given my true love the divorce papers. He does not understand what he has done wrong. He was obviously not the one for me. I hate Christmas.
Dear Diary, it is day 12 and in hope of getting me back, my true love sent 12 drummers drumming to my work. I have been fired for causing a disturbance and I am now unemployed. I am so glad this 12 days is over. I will never suggest doing this again. I have started going to therapy.
