You Look Stupid

I stare at my sixty-eight-year-old grandmother in disbelief. You got a parrot, Grandma? She nods, pleased. Do you have any idea how long a parrot lives? I hope he outlives me, she says. I think that is a given. I look it up. Parrots live between eighty and a hundred years. Isn’t he adorable? She asks me. He gives me a hard beak look. Outstares me. I love him! She says. If I die first, you will take care of him, right? I have never liked birds after the Alfred Hitchcock movie. I take a closer look at the feathered fiend. Under my breath I say “you look stupid.” “YOU LOOK STUPID!” he yells at me. Oh, yes, I will take care of him.