I'M NOT ALL that impressed with reality shows. Oh sure, those people out in the jungle might smell after a few days or may eat a few worms, but that's a small price to pay for a chance at a million bucks. Take the latest reality show, "The Simple Life." Hotel heiress Paris Hilton and best friend Nicole Richie (daughter of legendary pop star Lionel Richie) are forced to spend a month on an Arkansas farm, milking cows and going to quilting bees. Like this is hard? Give me a break!

I have an idea for my own reality show. I call it "The Seedful Life". In my show, Paris Hilton comes to my house and takes care of my parrots for a day. Just one day.

Join in on the hilarity as Paris (her pal Nicole ain't up for this one) leaves behind the comforts of her lavish lifestyle in Los Angeles for a chance to live the life of a bird owner. Armed with her Louis Vuitton bag and her teacup Chihuahua, Tinkerbell, she struggles to make the transition from the penthouse to the birdhouse. Four birds. One suburban home. One sink for washing food bowls. One haughty self-indulgent airhead model-slash-actress. Together they add up to one side-splitting day!

Let's look in on Paris and see how she's faring with Charli the African brown-headed parrot and the cockatiels Sugar, Nicholas and Flash.

7 a.m. Paris whips the covers off the cages and greets the birds with a bright "Hello!" Their sleep interrupted, the birds stare back sullenly, except for Nicholas, who wolf whistles.

7:05 a.m. Exhausted from her efforts, Paris wobbles into the living room on her three-inch platforms and flops down on the sofa. She grabs the remote control and tunes in "Am I Hot?" The cockatiels begin their "breep, breep!" call for breakfast. "Will you SHUT UP?" Paris shouts from the living room, annoyed. After turning the volume all the way up, she gives up and decides to get the chores over with.

7:10 a.m. Paris stands in front of the cages, manicured hands on hips. "Okay, birds. I’m supposed to do this newspaper thing." She peers inside one of the cockatiel cages and wrinkles her nose. "Ewwww!" She picks up Tinkerbell, who has not stopped trembling since their arrival. "Thank goodness I have my Tinky Winky with me! You're not disgusting, are you, Tinky? You're not like these nasty old parakeets." She finds rubber gloves in the kitchen and, pinching her nostrils shut with one hand, changes the papers with the other. This takes the better part of an hour because Paris must pause every few seconds to gag.

8 a.m. After taking a long hot shower to wash off the bird cooties, Paris feels better. Good enough, in fact, to tackle feeding the birds. When she opens the last cage door to pour pellets into the food bowl, a cockatiel escapes. As Nicholas flies tight circles around the room, Paris shrieks and ducks. "Stay away! Stay away from me! Tinky, run! Run, Tinky, run!"

9 a.m. Her migraine much better, Paris tiptoes back to the door of the bird room and opens it a crack. Nicholas is back in his cage. Paris rushes into the room and slams his cage door shut.

10 a.m. Lying on the couch, Paris flips open her cell phone. "You gotta see this," she tells Nicole, and snaps a picture of my living room. "Bird seed everywhere. It's totally revolting. How can anyone live like this?" Paris stares up at the ceiling. "This is sooooo boring. Are you sure you can't come over? Nicole? Nicole??"

Noon. Paris goes to the Dairy Queen for lunch. "Tell your sons I'm single and in town for another four hours," she announces before winking at the cashier and sashaying out. "Who was that?" the manager asks. "Marguerite Floyd's bird sitter," the cashier replies. "You know, from that new reality show, 'The Seedful Life.'"

2 p.m. Bored out of her skull, Paris decides to do something fun. She will let all the birds out of their cages so they can play together. She opens all the cage doors and steps back to the center of the room. "Okay, birds, free time. Just don't fly over my head. That creeps me out." Charli, whose mission in life is to eradicate cockatiels, happily scoots out of her cage and onto Flash's, so she can ambush him when he comes out. Sugar and Nicholas make a beeline for Paris’ blonde head. "Get off me! Get off!" Paris screams, swatting at them. She totters into the living room, where Sugar alights on her arm and with one deft motion chomps through an expensive bracelet, sending beads and bangles tinkling to the floor. Nicholas scores a runny one through Paris’ open-toed sandals.

Paris limps whimpering to the bathroom to clean up. When she bends down with a Kleenex, the cockatiels land on her back, hiss at one another, and begin to beak fight. Paris twists every which way trying to dislodge them. Flash lands on her shoulder and screams.

3 p.m. Still partially deaf in one ear, Paris tries to gather up the cockatiels with a broom and dustpan but they skitter under the dining room table. Paris tries to pick up Charli but Charli bites her. Paris drops Charli, falls off a platform and twists her ankle. "I can’t believe this is happening to me!" she wails. "Tinky! Tinky! Come on, we’re getting out of here!" Tinkerbell is nowhere to be found. "Tinky? Tinkerbell? Where are you?" Checking the back yard, Paris finds Tinkerbell inflagrante delicto with the dachshund from next door. An anguished scream echos through the streets.

4 p.m. I arrive home as Paris is being wheeled away on a gurney with an IV in her arm. She's dazed, bleeding, hair sticking up in tufts, makeup streaked, ankle elevated. "Did you have a good time, honey?" I ask, suspecting I already know the answer. "What kind of hellhole do you live in, lady?" Paris growls. "I'm suing you, your parakeets and Fox. Some things are just too hideous for one person to endure." As they load her in the ambulance Paris flips open her cell phone one last time and sobs into it. "Oh, Nicole, it was awful. It was just like that movie. Yeah, that’s the one. 'The Birds.' Make us dinner reservations at the Hilton. I’m coming home.”

Marguerite Floyd is a hospital documentation manager, but her real job is servant to three cockatiels, Sugar Franklin, Nicholas and Flash; and a 3 1/2-year-old brown-headed parrot named Charli.