So, Alex spends a lot of time in the backyard by himself, arranging the toys in ways that make him happy. This is how he relaxes. So if anyone knows every inch of the backyard, it's him. And we have a big pine tree in the back corner that birds like to build nests in. So last week, Thursday and Friday were very windy days. And each afternoon, Alex found a nestling bird that had fallen out of a nest and brought it to me. This happened last year as well.
Now, we can explain to him that the little birdies have lost their momma's, that they fell out of the nest, but he doesn't quite understand that we can't just put them back in (like Diego) and that they are going to die. (The one he found Thursday was still breathing but Friday's bird was dead and I really hope it was the fall that broke it's neck and not Alex).
And I wish I could explain to him that they are dirty and we shouldn't touch them without gloves. So, both times I brought him and washed his hands and then went back out with gloves myself to deal with the corpses myself.
So, on Saturday evening, right before bed, when he was out playing by himself and called out "Birdie!" I sent Marshall out to make sure he was playing with his golf clubs and had just hit a good shot (like he does on Wii Sports) and hadn't found yet another small creature I would have to dispose to. Thankfully, he was in golf mode. Two birds is enough for this year. Those dang birds really need to build better nests, I tell you.
UPDATE: Now this is just ridiculous! So, an hour after I first posted, Miranda and I start to walk out the back door into the back yard to play on the swing but we have to stop and pick up another fledgling carcass which is waiting for us in front of the bottom step on the back patio. How it got there from the tree, which is quite a ways away, is a mystery to me.
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