Woody, Woody, cut it out.
Please don’t make me have to shout.
Woody, Woody, go away.
Please don’t be a dick today.
Woody, Woody, that’s enough.
Please don’t bang upon my stuff.
Woody, Woody, can’t you see
That my house is not a tree?
I awoke yesterday to a strange knock – couldn’t tell if it was coming from inside or outside. Thought it might have been a neighbor doing some yard work, but the cadence wasn’t reflective of any productive human activity I could think of, and it almost sounded like it was coming from inside the wall.
I went outside to find a cheeky woodpecker perched on the decorative trim on the side of my house, banging away at the stucco. I reached down to pick up a snowball to throw at it, but when I looked back up it was gone.
It came back later.
And then again this morning.