My poor husband is torn up inside, and it is because he has practically murdered, oh, about 5 of God’s beautiful creatures.
Caleb found a HUMONGOUS bird’s nest filled with tiny eggs this past weekend in the lid of our unsightly bright-white propane tank. Unfortunately, we are scheduled to fill that puppy up here in the next week or so, and we knew that poor nest had to go. Caleb spent I-don’t-even-know-how-much money at Lowe’s on supplies to build a birdhouse. He was so excited.
This afternoon, he built the thing, spent forever getting it to be just the right height, pounded it into the ground about 3 feet away from the original nesting site, and carefully transplanted the precious nest to its new spot…and we waited. And waited. Momma and Papa Bird flew in and out of the propane tank lid, confused…if birds could have expressions, these poor birds’ faces would read "What the hell?…"
Birds are not the brightest animals on the face of this great Earth. They have flown around the tank about a million times, never once darting to their right, where their posh new birdhouse is sturdily standing, housing their 5 little babies…after all this thought we put into it.
And yet, we feel so terrible, Caleb especially. He watched through Mia’s window for at least an hour, willing those things to fly just 3 feet over to discover their new home.
Me, I’ve got a hunch that those damn birds will not miraculously "discover" their ever-so-carefully built birdhouse, but will go back to building a brand-new nest in the old location, complete with a brand-new set of babies…so sad. Don’t know what in the heck we’ll do with these 5 unborn orphans now.
On another note, I may still have the mumps. My lump is back with a fierceness, and Caleb looked at my hideous face and called me "Quasimodo"…excuse me, according to my dear, sweet, loving husband, he only called me "Quasi". Which is so much nicer. Thanks, babe.