A Tall Glass of Truth
The other day, the kids asked me if they could play with Tavi (our parakeet). I was working on a manuscript at the kitchen table, so it seemed like a good idea. We put the dogs in the bedroom and opened the bird cage.
Tavi flew out to land on one of their heads, and they immediately started giggling. Over the next half hour or so, the three of them played quietly around the table while I edited. At one point, Tavi even climbed into my glass to take a bath. Tons of fun.
After a while, though, I decided we needed to let the dogs back out. I put Tavi back in his cage, and the kids sat down at the table to chat while I continued to work. It was a surprise, but a nice one.
I continued to edit, and, without thinking, I reached out and took a drink.
Both kids exploded with laughter.
Too late, I looked down at my glass. Bird droppings floated at the bottom, and a feather was stuck to its edge.
I ran to the sink to spit out the water, rinse out my mouth, and try to suppress my urge to throw up.
Note to self: the next time the kids sit down to quietly chat, be afraid.