They've been back every day this week--Mama Thrush and Jr. I think her patience is wearing thin. She sits on a branch in the tree, next to the birdfeeder. She looks exasperated. He cranes his chubby little neck to see her from his own perch in a bush under the tree--three inches off the ground. He doesn't seem to get it. That she wants him to come up.
"This is where the goodies are, Jr. You have me worn out carrying seeds down to you, one at a time. Now get your butt up here!"
But he continues to sit. Maybe his belly is so fat he can't get it airborne? Master C and I have decided that, cute as he is, when he goes to bird kindergarten, he'll definitely be in special ed.
1 comment:
At least the "exasperated mother" is a universal in nature too -- makes me feel less guilty.
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