rSlash - r/TIFU I'm Dating a Parrot

Episode Date: December 13, 2025

0:00 Intro 0:06 Parrot 1:57 Open eyes 5:51 Mickey phone 8:17 Winning 10:21 Trauma 11:34 Snake and rat 13:19 Mute Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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and every step forward feels like progress. Not another wrong turn. Visit camh.ca to help us forge a better path for mental health care. Welcome to R-slash- Today I Fpped Up. where O.P. accidentally becomes a parrot's boyfriend. Today I effed up by mocking my neighbor's parrot for the last couple of weeks. So I live in an apartment where the walls are thin enough that I can hear my neighbor's TV, phone calls, and unfortunately, their parrot. This parrot is a very beautiful animal, but it makes me want to rip my hair out and do things that I'm not proud to admit. Let's just

say he's become my morning alarm for the last few months. About two weeks ago, I started mocking his sounds back. He'd squawk, I'd squawk. He'd whistle, I'd whistle back. We built up a little routine, kind of like distant, angry roommates communicating through bird calls. Sometimes I would even initiate it, like when I was cooking. I would randomly have a Tourette-like outburst and start squawking loudly. I know this is strange, lull. Yesterday, my neighbor knocked on my door and had a really odd look on her face. Apparently, ever since I started doing my bird banter, her parrot become obsessed with me. I guess I just wasn't in the mood for bird talk the last couple of days and went silent. She said that he paces and screeches when I stop responding. She even showed me

a video, which was such an awkward experience. She said that he used to have a parrot friend years ago that died, and she thinks it wants some sort of bird companion. Anyways, she asked me to make a couple of bird sounds as she put a treat in its cage to see if it would eat. I reluctantly agreed and felt humiliated, of course, but I went through with it. And sure enough, this little turd started eating and playing. Long story short, I became the object of a parrot's affection, and my neighbor asked if I could talk to him for a few minutes a day, and even gave preferred times if I'm home. I've unintentionally entered a long-distance relationship with a bird.

O.P., the name for this genre is enemies to lovers. Today I effed up by thinking it was normal to not be able to open your eyes in the morning for 25 years. Ever since I was a kid, it took me ages to get out of bed. The sunlight coming in through the window seemed so bright. I couldn't even open my eyes past a squint. It took maybe 20 to 30 minutes of blinking, squinting, and sometimes fumbling around with my eyes closed before I was fully awake. My mother told me that it just took a while to get used to the light in the morning,

and that it took a bit to fully wake up. I planned every morning around 20 minutes of blinking, squinting, and trying to not go back to sleep. I'm 27 years old, so this has just been a fact of life for me. I set a second alarm about an hour before I have to actually get up, so I have plenty of time to wake up, and possibly fall back asleep for a bit. I have a toddler now, and he sleeps terribly, so mornings have been rough for me. One morning, I took a picture of myself with squinty, lopsided, because one side was able to open a bit more, eyes to show a friend how exhausted I looked first thing in the morning. She asked why my eyes were like

that, and I told her I hadn't gotten used to the light. She was even more confused. I asked some friends and did some Googling. This is not normal. Most people just open their eyes in the morning. A friend suggested that maybe I slept with my eyes open, and while I wasn't sure about that, I noticed that my son did sleep with his eyes cracked, so it stood to reason that I did too. I bought nighttime eye gel, eyedrops for the morning, and I used them for the first time last night. Sure enough, I woke up with my eyes a bit sensitive and hard to open. I reach for the drops, put them in, and opened my eyes immediately. It was like I'd been up for an hour. The light didn't bother me, my eyes were wide open, and I felt wide awake. My entire life, I thought this was normal, but I cured myself of a daily

inconvenience by spending 20 bucks. Now, I'm trying to convince my mom to try the drops to LMAO. O.P.'s writing is a bit unclear. I think what she means is that her open eyes dry out overnight, and so the next morning they're just bone dry, so she has to re-lubricate her eyes over 20 minutes. Down in the comments, we have this story from Cybersmith. I totally empathize O.P. I was born with terrible eyesight, and I had incredibly ignorant and neglectful parents. I had terrible grades growing up, to the point where my parents and school staff were convinced I may even have a learning disability, so they put me on Ritalin and started behavioral therapy. It wasn't until fourth grade when one of the teachers noticed that I couldn't see the chalkboard.

She noticed I was squinting, and when I couldn't see anything, I wouldn't take any notes. So, I kid you not, unlike everyone else in my life up until that point, she walked over to my desk and asked me to read what was on the board. I couldn't see anything. I told her, I don't know what you mean, there's nothing on the board. And she was gobsmacked. She looked at me, looked at the board, and then grabbed my hand and walked me up to the board. Sweetie, can you see it now? Can you read what it says to the class? She asked me.

I had to get about six inches away from the board, but then I was able to read it. She called in the principal and asked me to stay after class. They then called my parents to tell me that I was blind, not fully, just in dire need of corrective eyewear. I was alive for 10 years without being able to see hardly anything that was farther than two feet away. It hadn't occurred to anyone, including me, that this was abnormal. I was under the impression that everyone saw as poorly as I did, that it was standard. I had adapted to play sports while unable to see. When I finally got glasses, I cried for nearly three hours.

I was totally inconsolable. I couldn't believe that this is what life was supposed to look like. I could see my friend's faces. I could read the board. I could see the ball and my teammates. All because I had ignorant parents. Today I effed up by accidentally reprogramming the Call Mickey Mouse button on the Disney Store phone to auto call my dad at work.

When I was about 15, I was at a Disney store in the mall, and one of the features was a phone that you could call different Disney characters from and then have a fake slash pre-recorded conversation with that character. While I was using it, I noticed the cover was loose, and when I pulled it up, I saw that it was just a normal phone underneath. So I did what any moron kid would do and dialed my dad's work. number and said hi. I didn't mention I was at the Disney store or the way that I had called him. He was mildly annoyed and the short call ended. If only he knew what was coming. In actuality,

by dialing his number, I had unknowingly reprogrammed the Mickey Mouse button to call my dad at work. So I walk away and go about my afternoon. It's important to note this was early 1990s and very much pre-cell phone, meaning I got home several hours later, so there was no way to contact me. those few hours every few minutes my dad's work phone would ring and a cute little kid would say to my dad does Mickey have a message for me well the first few times my dad was just confused and hung up but it didn't stop in fact the frequency began to pick up and my dad assuming he was being relentlessly pranked while he was trying to work finally just lost as cool and yelled into the phone at some poor kid yeah Mickey has a message for you

Fuck off! Needless to say, the call stopped. I assume someone reported that to the store and they got it sorted. But when he told me the story later that evening, I just burst out laughing. Then I explained everything. It would be a lie to say that he immediately saw the humor in it, but he certainly does now. Down in the comments, we have this story from Richard Elmore. There was a story in the news years ago about a hotel that ran ads for its events catering services, but accidentally listed the wrong phone number. The woman, whose phone number it actually was, started getting calls from people wanting to book events, and she kept referring them to the correct number for months. When she contacted the hotel to get them to correct the ads, they evidently blew her off. So, she just

started accepting bookings for whatever date the caller requested. When angry customers started to show up at the hotel for their event, only to be told no such reservation existed, then the hotel got motivated to correct the number in the ads. Today I effed up by letting my younger cousin win at Mario Kart. My 8-year-old cousin was over for a family thing, and he's a pretty quiet kid, gets overwhelmed around adults, and mostly just sits in the corner with his switch. I thought maybe I could help him feel more included, so I offered to play some Mario Kart with him.

He lit up right away, told me he loved racing games, but he never gets to win when he plays with his older brother. So I figured, yeah, sure, why not? I'll give him a couple of wins. Help him feel like a champ. I started sandbagging a bit, not drifting much, slowing down at the end so he could pass me. The usual big cousin move, you know? He wins three races in a row, and he's bouncing around like he just won the lottery,

yelling, I'm actually good at this! And my aunt is clapping and smiling like he just graduated college or something. Hulsome moment, 10 out of 10. But then he wants to keep playing, like a lot. I keep letting him win because I'm thinking, all right, this will burn out eventually. Spoiler, it didn't. Fast forward to now. This kid brings his switch over every time he visits.

He walks in the door like, You ready to lose again? And I laugh, but inside I know it's not a joke anymore. He grinded. He actually practiced. He knows all the shortcuts, hits every drift, uses mushroom like some kind of cart racing warlock. I started trying again, and he still beats me, like regularly.

I'm not even close sometimes. And the worst part, he talks trash. Like straight up, maybe you should pick baby mode. And did you mean to fall off Rainbow Road or... His dad, my uncle, told me that he plays every day now and he tells his school friends, I beat a grown-up at Mario Kart and made him quit. Which technically happened once when I rage quit after getting blue-shelled twice in one race. I'm not proud.

Anyway, yeah, I'm just trying to be nice and now I have a pint-sized rival who's slowly destroying my gaming self-esteem one race at a time. At least he says I'm his favorite cousin now, before he obliterates me on Wario Stadium. Today I effed up by not realizing my kid was walking by behind me. Now there's enough trauma to discuss with a future therapist. I walked into the living room downstairs and caught my wife scratching an extremely private area.

Since we've been married for years and years, I'm not shocked by this. I've even heard rumors that women fart, can confirm. Anyway, in an attempt to defuse her embarrassment, I decided to play this off as being sexy. Yes, I'm stupidly corny. I said, if you're playing with yourself, I'll help. My wife responds, no, no, it wasn't like that. I was just scratching an itch. I, of course, reply with, well, I also have itches that you can scratch, and if you scratch mine, I'll scratch yours. To which I got a non-committal, maybe later? I said, well, I guess I'll just have to

smell your fingers to tide me over. Mm-hmm, yummy. So, yeah, my intentions towards my beloved are rarely pure. As I'm making this attempt at romantic tomfoolery, neither of us notice our kid turned the corner going to the kitchen. The kid punches me in the arm. That's for what you just said. So I'm sure a therapist will be mulling over that one day.

Today I effed up by trying to feed my sunbeam snake and accidentally becoming a rat mom. So I'm a seasoned reptile keeper. I've got multiple animals. I know my stuff, and I've always fed frozen thawed, always. Not just because it's safer for the snake, but because frankly, I'm not a sick bastard who enjoys watching animals die. I love my reptiles, but I also have a soul. So when I got my new sunbeam snake, goblin, and was told he only takes live, I was already stressed. Tonight, I went to the shop to pick up one fuzzy rat. I ended up with two fuzzies in a stapled shut paper bag like I just ordered a sad meal from hell's drive-thru. I get home. I'm sweating guilt. I prep the

enclosure, drop the rats in, and back away like I've just committed a war crime. Coblin doesn't even come out. He stays buried in his hide, presumably judging me from the shadows. Meanwhile, these two little albino rats are just living, sniffing around, doing rat thing. They're soft. They've got tiny pink hands. One of them licked me. Licked me. I sat on the floor, silently spiraling. I told myself I'd give it an hour. After an hour, Goblins still hadn't shown up, but I was on the verge of crying. So I scooped the rats out, whispered, you're safe now, like I rescued them from a Dickensian orphanage and set them up with a janky little rat snack bistro from leftover bird food and desperation. Now, the rats are curled up. sleeping like it's the best day of their lives. Goblin is still in hiding. I've left him a frozen thought offering, so maybe that rights my wrongs here, LMAO. I'm emotionally wrecked. I guess I'm a rat mom now. Today I effed up by realizing my mute button wasn't muted during a two-hour stakeholder meeting. I was in a massive all-hand meeting of about 40 people for a project launch. Usually,

I keep my mic hard-muted on my headset, but today I was eating lunch, so I was double-muted. Software mute plus headset mute, or so I thought. About 45 minutes in, the project manager was explaining a delay in the timeline. I, thinking I was safe in my cocoon of silence, let out a very loud, very deep sigh, and muttered, Oh my God, just get to the point, nobody cares. The audio picked it up, but also, because of the way, that Teams and Zoom prioritizes active speakers, my face popped up on the main screen for a split second. The silence was deafening. The PM paused for a solid five seconds. Nobody said anything.

He just continued. I slowly reached up and tapped my headset. It beeped. Mute on. It had been off the whole time. I have not checked my Slack messages. I'm considering faking my own death and moving to a down in the comments junk hit adds this story i was on a zoom call with about 300 people i work with and someone said out loud unmuted hang on i got to get on with this effing pointless zoom call i felt bad since i agreed that was our slash today i effed up and if you like this content be sure to follow my podcast because i put out new reddit podcast episodes every single day