My Dad often asks me if I feel like I'm living in a fairy tale... beautiful home, wonderful family, caring husband, great job...
Yes, a fairy tale...
In fact it must be my constant singing and waltzing about that attracts the birds. In the eleven months we have lived in our home we have had five birds in to visit. Unfortunately they are not the singing, helpful breed that go around making beds and doing dishes. They are the common, unfairy tale breed, that chirp about, run into windows, and poop on the floor (as if I haven't had enough of that).
Fortunately I have just the unfairy tale type dog to chase away such ordinary birds. She has successfully chased all the birds out, that is until today. Today, our bird was not quick enough. As I stood by appalled, Hadley cheered Chanel on.
Now I have a dead bird on my floor. What to do? There is no protocol for a dead bird in a fairy tale. Well it simply couldn't stay. It would have to go as it threatened my fairy tale existence. So I did what any fairy tale princess would do... I threw a plastic bag over it and a pink sequined hat for good measure. I am now waiting for my prince charming to come rescue me.
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