Summer Birds

“That’s a house finch, the one with the red cap.”

“Okay, this noisy one down here who’s swearing at me is a tufted titmouse.”

“He is noisy! I thought the wren was bad with her language but this guy is swearing in languages other than bird.”

“Let’s keep staring at him.”

[Stare.]

“He’s really nuts now.”

“That one’s a house sparrow.”

“No it’s not, it’s a female house finch! They all are—they’re the red guy’s harem.”

“Birds don’t have harems, stupid. They mate for life, just two birds.”

“Mom found an article that said that just wasn’t true, that birds played around.”

“Whatever, but that’s not a house sparrow.”

“Go get the guidebook!”

“Mom put it away in the book case with the door.”

“That’s no wonder. ‘Someone’ forgot to put it back on her pile the last time and she thought she’d lost it.”

“She leaves it all over the place, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Careful, she’s standing right behind us.”

“Oh, she’s taking a picture again.”

“Okay, the one that’s nearest the red guy is his wife, but the other two are house sparrows.”

“Let’s see if we can read mom’s mind. Sometimes she talks to herself and says it out loud.”

“Let’s both turn and look at her, she’ll probably talk to us if we do. Maybe she’ll say what they are.”

Hey guys, are you enjoying the birds?

“No good. What else can we try?”

Those tufted titmice are really squawking up a storm, aren’t they?

“Wrong bird. What next?’

Guess I’d better get back to work. Why don’t you two try not being so cute so I can get something done around here?

“I guess we’ll never know.”