Ruffled feathers

The sun was shining, there were moments where it was actually quite warm and the kids were keen to play in the garden. More weeding and tidying was on the agenda for me but it was just nice to get out in the sun again. A and D have their own gardening tools and they were busy shovelling mud from the borders and onto the grass so it was a bit one step forward, two steps back but they enjoyed it.

Nap time came and the house was silent. I was putting the kettle on when I turned round to see a pigeon flying at high speed into the kitchen. Much screaming from me, I ran into the hallway and closed the door (I have a bit of a phobia about birds flying anywhere near me). Miss A heard the commotion and got up to see what was happening. We peered through the door and A became very excited. She asked if we could keep the bird. When I said no, she asked if she could kiss it. Again, that'll be a no. I had visions of doing a Rachel from Friends and trying to catch the pigeon in a pot but instead opted for opening the window it was repeatedly flying into. I also had visions of it poking my eyes out as I got close to it, or it getting tangled in my hair and clawing my scalp til it bled, but both the pigeon and I lived to tell the tale.

This was what the little fella left behind...