...into the baby's room", Emma comes downstairs crying. I say "Huh?" I know I couldn't have heard her correctly. I ask where the bird is now, and she says she doesn't know. So I go upstairs, pretty sure there is just a bird flying outside the closed window in John's room. But sure enough, as soon as I get to the top of the stairs, here comes flying out of the baby's room is a little sparrow!
I call Jim because I am not really sure what to do. He wants to go all "PETA" and humane and get the bird out without harm. Blah, blah, blah. My first instinct is to
schwack it down with a racket. But then again, I don't want to get hit in the head with a crazy bird or have to get a dead or injured bird out of the house.
Emma decides that she wants to help, so we devise a plan. First, we have to get the baby in a "safe" room. We move him to my room. She gets on the bed with him and tells him not to be afraid.
It just so happens that
Muno (Yo
Gabba!
Gabba!) is singing "Don't Be Afraid" at the very same time. I Swear! I couldn't make this stuff up!
Then Emma and I shut all the doors upstairs except for
her's and John's and make a bread trail between the rooms.
We open her window, which proved to be easier said than done, and she came up with the genius idea to get a cage (we don't have one so "this box will work, right Mom?") and keep the damn bird, which she was just 10 minutes ago crying about, as a pet.
Yeah, that is a GREAT idea! Anyway...
The bird is pretty happy in the baby's room. He keeps flying into the closet and then around the room and landing on the bed or behind the rocking chair:
Finally, he gets "stuck" in the closet, so I have to coax him out with a broom. Now, don't go call PETA. All I did was shake some clothes around and he flew out and then onto the T.V. in the game room. Awesome!
Well, at least that was enough time to close the baby's door so his only option was down the stairwell (dear God, please don't let him do that!) or out the window in Emma's room. Eventually, he decided the second of the two options was the best, and we all lived Happily Ever After. Especially Emma, who thought it was so cool to have a bird in the house AND get to throw bread on the floor and out the window.
Moral of the story: A bird in the baby's room is worth an afternoon of fun with your four-year old (and a load of crib bedding laundry and vacuuming.)
She's a riot! 
