Skip to main content

Not Ready for Those Birds and Bees

 It's spring.  Officially.  But unofficially it's been looking a lot like spring for the last few weeks.  Trees are starting to bloom.  Wildflowers are popping up everywhere.  The birds are singing in the mornings.  Deer are running through our yard constantly, and the turkeys are everywhere.  

Last week we almost hit a turkey that was in the middle of the road.  I'm usually pretty cautious but this guy was at the crest of a hill, and I couldn't see him until we were right up in his tail feathers.  It didn't help that he wasn't making any attempt to get out of the road.  

"He must be hurt," I told the boys.  "It looks like he's been hit by a car.  He is acting really weird."  

We crept by him in the opposite lane.  I had nothing to dispatch him with and wasn't about to use my hands, so I wasn't going to stop.   As we passed Sawyer shouted, "And he's even got another turkey under him!"

Oh.  

"Aren't you going to call Grandma?!" Fischer asked, thinking she could put him out of his misery.  

"Ummmm, I'm driving."  I wasn't prepared to give more details.  They ask a lot of questions.  

At dinner the boys told Ross about the "hurt" bird.  He was a little more forthcoming with what they actually witnessed.  "He wasn't hurt.  He was helping the hen make babies."

"Oh.  So they were going to put the eggs right in the road?  They won't survive there," said Sawyer with some concern.

"No, maybe you should ask Mom to explain it," Ross said with a smirk.

"Actually, I think that's more of a science question," I shot back.

Meanwhile, the boys forgot what we were talking about and moved on to another topic.  I thought I'd dodged a bullet.

The next day I was eating lunch with Fischer and he brought the topic back up.  Apparently, he forgot I was part of the dinner conversation, and he proceeded to explain to me what was happening on the road.  "Mom, the tom wasn't hurt.  He was actually doing the hen..."  He paused for dramatic effect, and I choked on my water.  He didn't realize how effective that pause was.  He continued, "...doing the hen's eggs."

Sigh of relief.  "Really?"

"Yeah, he was helping her lay her eggs."

"Oh.  That's cool," I said, wiping my brow and immediately changing the subject.  

We are going to have a lot of explaining to do.  Just not today.    

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...
4 comments
Read more

Reflecting

It's August. I guess I can stop waiting for that call from the Oregon Department of Education.  It appears I didn't earn teacher of the year after all.  I wonder if it had something to do with my mask policy?  It definitely could have been the mask policy.   Personally, I thought the duct tape worked great.   *Sigh* It was probably the mask policy.  You win some.  You lose some.  Better luck next year.   Speaking of next year, we are trying a hybrid homeschool program.  Sawyer gets to go to school twice a week and learn at home the other days.  I'm confident he will fall in love with his teacher in the first eight minutes.  She is young, cute and very enthusiastic.  It's going to either make him work really hard or be a complete distraction.  Either way, on the "home" days, I'm going to make her look really good.  Pajama Mama is neither young nor cute and I'm rarely enthusiastic (which may have als...
4 comments
Read more