Where's the Birdie?

These eggs are styrofoam.  They did not hail from B.

It's been a while since I posted about my parrotlet, B.  By "a while" I mean roughly 1.5 weeks.  But who's counting?

B likes to hang out with Mr. Pihl and me in our bathroom while we go about our morning routines.  She always makes sure we remember she's there.  Watching.

Always watching.

Just like Roz from Monsters Inc.!

Where was I?  Right.  She squawks and chatters if she thinks we're not paying enough attention to her (which is basically ALL THE TIME).

Last week she apparently decided that she was done with the squawking and the chattering and decided to retreat right on over to our bathroom storage shelves.

How many birdies can you spot??!!

You say two?  I say five, if you include the little styrofoam eggs.

B decided to check them out (which in birdie language means, "let me chew on it a little and maybe destroy it in the meantime,").

I called her out on her destructive nature which caused her to pause and assess the situation.

I took advantage of this mild display of maternal interest and asked B if she wanted to be a mommy to the eggs.

She shook her head in a feathery blur of blue.

And I swear I could hear that song from the sixties saying "No, no no no no-NO no no!" playing somewhere in the next room.  You know the song:

No?  No, no?

Har har har.

B, you're a silly girl.