1)Our love birds came back again this year. The stayed a bit longer this time and actually seemed a little more in love this year. After a week of seeing them as a pair, only one came back. He kept coming back, night after night for a week, waiting patiently on his little birdy wife. He doesn't come back anymore. We fear the worst. At least we have the sidewalk stains of bird poo to remind us of the once happy couple.
2)In their place, a sparrow has taken up residence. The first day I saw him, I thought, "Oh a sparrow! I like sparrows. I mean...His eye is on them, what's not to like?" I'll tell ya what's not to like. Sparrows are evil, territorial, little demons in disguise. He's watching them so He can keep track of the human eyes they peck out. They aren't meek little birds. There is bird poop on my front door from the times they've tried to come into my house. They kamikaze us so badly that I duck and cover out of instinct now, whenever I come or go from my own residence. I do not lie, this sparrow followed my car the entire way out of our neighborhood yesterday. Where our first little pair of lovebirds waited until the calm of dusk to take up nest over our door, the sparrows come in the light of day, just waiting for a human to encroach on their space.
4)Simon has also figured out this whole allowance thing. His chores are to empty the dishwasher and take out the trash. He's been very consistent. I explained investing to him yesterday and we're trying to encourage him to not bust his butt just to waste his money on a DS game. His goal now is to make $25 and have his dad match it so he can buy an ounce of silver. SMART BOY.
5)Another Simon story b/c I don't want to forget: I was on the phone with my sister yesterday for the first time in at least a week(not normal for us, we usually chat at least every other day)and we both had a lot of catching up to do. All was well, kiddos were upstairs playing and as typically happens when attempting an adult convo, the chaos started to drift downstairs. One wanted milk, one wanted a popsicle and one thought throwing a ball in the house would be overlooked because I was distracted. Check, check and HECK no. I called the ball thrower out. I warned him, not just with my voice, but with pointing, shaking my head and bugging my eyes out. Not three minutes later, I turn in time to see the ball tossed into the ceiling fan and slow-mo-throw itself into my antique Towers of the Americas whiskey flask. Bing. Bang. Boom. My eyes went from the ball to the whiskey flask to Simon's horrified eyes and back again within the half a second it took for my bottle to fall to the tile floor, shatter, and spray tiny pieces of porcelain all over the living room.
Simon knew. Even my sister was like, "Do I need to let you go?" I decided to deal with it once my conversation was over. In the meantime, Simon immediately got a box and picked up all the shattered pieces, even being mindful to keep Titus away. :) He carried the vacuum cleaner down the stairs to get all the little pieces. While he was at it, realizing my phone conversation was still in play, he made my bed. That was enough icing on the cake that I was quick to forgive, but not without a lecture on listening the first time and why we don't throw balls inside.