No Kids, No Parrots
Originally told at The Moth, Madison, sometime in Winter, 2023
Give and take reminded me about my indecision about wanting to have kids. Kids are one of the ultimate give and take, and I’m not sure if I should have them, not because I don’t think I’d be a good dad, but because I’m afraid of a parrot.
Back in my undergrad days, I interned as a zoo and met a parrot named Attila. Attila was aptly named because he was an asshole and because he was obsessed with conquering Rome. Attila was one of 8 kea that I worked with. Kea are foot tall, olive colored parrots found in the mountains of New Zealand and are endangered because of their curiosity. When colonizers arrived in New Zealand, they brought sheep. Kea, being highly intelligent, learned they could fly down, land on the backs of sheep, and use their long, sharp beaks to rip through the sheep’s skin and eat the fat inside. (Now you know why I was afraid. I bet you laughed just seconds ago!). They are flying, intelligent, flesh-eaters, and I worked with kea to restore their population because the colonizers didn’t appreciate the infected sheep wounds.
For about a month, I’d go every morning into their enclosure at the zoo. Most of the kea were cool. We had an arrangement. I’d give them their food. They’d eat it. I gave. They took. Attila wasn’t cool. From the moment Attila met me, he seemed like he wanted me dead. He watched me from the corner of the enclosure… from the tops of the trees, and everyday he came closer. One day, he flew up on my shoulder and I immediately swatted him away. He flew to the ground and stared at me with a look that said “ I will eat you.”
I go back to the birdhouse and tell another intern, Dan, what happened. I respected Dan. He was always calm and collected. Dan could tie knots in ways I never heard of. Ten years later, I still suck at tying my shoes. Dan suggested I assert dominance- puff out my chest, be louder, take up more space- all the things I hate doing, but I trusted him.
The next day I went to the lorikeet enclosure. These are the small parrots you can give nectar to in hopes they land on you. It’s a thrill if they choose you among the crowds, but when you are the only one in the enclosure, and they all simultaneously choose “You”, things get weird. They loved sticking their long tongues inside my ear. Just a little le-le-le-le. They gave. I took. It’s a very odd sensation, but at least this way I found out I can be sexually satisfied by a parrot. But on this day, I hopped up on Dan’s words.
The next day, I went into the kea enclosure. I’m placing the food dishes- casually left and right. I fill up their water bowls with a bank shot off the wall from the hose. I am cool. Collected. I'm not taking anything .Attila senses me, and walks around a corner, and pauses. He looks at me and he decides “It’s on”. He flies at me and wraps his feet around my belt and starts biting my stomach. I freeze. I’m not sure if you’ve ever experienced being eaten, but freezing is not a good response, and also a terrible way of taking your coworker's advice of showing dominance. I’m frozen because I am thinking this is an endangered bird, they have fragile, hollow bones, but I’m also being eaten. After about 30 seconds of nothing, I start wiggling back and forth, while Attila hangs on. This isn’t working either, so I grab a food dish and hit him with it (gently), and he flies away.
I exit the enclosure. I go stop the bleeding and I get a different job.
And that’s why I shouldn’t have kids.
PS, at the time of writing, Attila is probably dead from old age, which is awesome.