While riding my exercise bike I noticed a small pile of bird seed on the rug near a few finished and neatly stacked birdhouses.
Why was there seed on the rug? Who had put it there? Did our house have mice, well-organized and nutritionally-aware mice? I could formulate questions. I couldn’t formulate answers.
The next day, while enjoying coffee at the Red Roaster in Wortley Village, I opened up one of my birdhouses (on display there) for a potential customer.
"It's definitely under-priced. What a bargain,” I declared.
Then I noticed a small handful of birdseed inside the house and said, "Where did that come from?”
The person I addressed stared back at me blankly as if to say, if you don’t know, who the heck does?
Then it dawned on me. I know who does. The four year old boy who loves to play with my birdhouses and who has helped me fill my bird feeders for the last two winters. Ollie.
Two large bags of seed are stored mere inches away from a few piles of birdhouses in my exercise room.
Ollie and I need to have a polite little chat.
***
Will Ollie spin circles around me as usual?
Please click here to read more about Ollie and Me.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment