Boy, I can turn GIRL in an instant.
With three daughters and no sons, my father still fared well. He had the best of both worlds: Girls who loved to spend the time with him learning typical boy-things like the black wire is hot, white is not, and never, ever touch them together; as well as proudly showing off his little princesses in the beautiful Easter outfits handmade for us by my mother. And oh yes, the pies and cakes and outrageously gross desserts of ice cream covered in M & Ms, bananas, blackberry sauce and whipped cream we created for him.
A housefinch is trapped inside the birdfeeder this morning. All I can do is open the top lid and try to talk him out, “Lift! Lift!” J.’s at work already. I don’t like fast jumping, fluttering, hopping creatures like spiders, frogs, flying bugs and birds. The only bird I ever had the nerve to approach with a towel to cover and carry to safety was a hummingbird beating against a window seeking freedom.
I’ll mentally wish this housefinch the knowledge of direction to the sky, and bear the guilt of knowing that I did not do my all to help him.
Hope the rest of the day goes better.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology