"I'm like a bird....", warbled Terrible Tweenager #2, always chirpy.
"How. How are you like a bird? Exactly precisely how?" asked TT#1, sourly. She is still getting to grips with the devils of PMT.
"Well...... I can fly".
"No you can't".
"Ok, I can't, but lots of birds can't fly and they're still birds. Like penguins and emus".
"You don't have any feathers".
"I'm a baby bird. I've only just hatched. But I'm still a bird". Ever the optimist.
"You don't have a beak".
"Some animals have beaks that aren't even birds. Like a platypus or a squid. So having a beak isn't a proof of being a bird".
"You don't lay eggs".
"Yes I do".
They pause for a while, wondering how to proceed. Perhaps a bit of a Mexican stand-off.
"Ok. You're like a bird. What kind of bird are you, then?"
"I'm an iguana".
This is why your brain turns to porridge when you have children. Listening to this drivel. Trying not to scream that AN IGUANA IS NOT A FUCKING BIRD.
I took my partner's niece and nephew to the zoo once, when they were very young. On the way home, I asked, "What was your favourite animal?"
ReplyDeleteQuick as a flash, niece replied, "Brontosaurus!"