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Thursday, December 4, 2008
Bird Boys

By Laura Doering, Editor of BIRD TALK and
Join in on Laura's fun and experiences of bird ownership, and share in her adventures as the editor of BIRD TALK in Wayward Feathers.

Laura's sons dressed as parrots
Courtesy Laura Doering
Finn (left) and Shea (right) get dressed up as "Ollie," Laura's nanday conure.

Laura's son shows his parrot spirit
Courtesy Laura Doering
Finn shows off his "wings" and "beak."

After getting the boys dressed and fed, I drop them off at their preschools on my way to work. I look forward to meeting up with them when I return home because I love hearing their enthusiastic tales of what they learned that day. At times, I have to hold back my chuckle, such as when Finn attempted to tell me what he learned about anatomy. “Mom, do you know where my brain is? It’s right here in my sculpture!” he said pointing to his head.

Imagine my delight when Finn came home telling me all about birds: “They live in nests in the trees and lay eggs.” He was especially excited because he could tell all his school friends that he has two birds at home.

After dinner, I noticed him standing in front of Ollie’s cage for a good five minutes, watching Ollie eat, stretch, climb and screech. “Ollie’s going to lay an egg,” he said.

“Well, we don’t know if Ollie is a boy or girl, and if he’s a boy, he’s not going to lay an egg because only girl birds lay eggs,” I replied.

“But I really want him to lay an egg!” he persisted.

Fifteen minutes later, Finn walked into the living room with his arms extended outward from his sides, holding two brown paper lunch bags in his hands. “Look mom, I have wings!” He flapped the bags up and down but became frustrated when the bags fell. I’m no Martha Stewart, but I did manage to come up with some wings on the fly, so to speak. I never imagined that three pieces of printer paper and scotch tape could bring out so much fun. Shea had to get in on the action, too. Soon, I had two more “Ollies flying around the house,” screeching the way only nandays do.

For the past week or so, I’ve had to fashion the boys’ fleece “Cars” blankets into giant nests, with me playing the role of momma bird and they as my chicks. This has made bedtime surprisingly less of a struggle: “You don’t hear birds chirping at night, because they’re all asleep,” I remind them.

I am extremely thankful, however, that Finn’s teacher left out the part about how momma birds regurgitate to their chicks.

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