It's true, the internet was right. It said my bird would go away after a few weeks, and it did.
Are you sick of hearing about the bird? Honestly, I was sick of that bird, too, so we're even. At least, I, in writing about the bird, have not tried to peck your eyes out while you got your mail.
I only have one...no two regrets. One, that the mama bird got nailed with a small stone from a slingshot. But though we still have feathers on our roof, I think she is okay. Two, that I didn't get to intentionally defacate on the bird (gross, Misty you're a sicko. Hey, it's not my fault, it's living with Dave for seven years what did it)....(do you guys ever talk to yourself? I thought that it was my rational self talking to my irrational self, but now I think it might be the other way around).
Not to change the subject, but (oh gosh, I can hear the applause, no wait, it's a collective sigh of relief)...(but haha, don't get too excited because I'm changing the subject to Zach)...(yes, the familiar groan of the agonized) lately Zach wants his stack of pancakes with strawberries on top.
Which reminds me...who is supervising the kids?