Flutter Nutter

Master Samuel turned 8 recently, and being the quirky little fella that he is, he requested a canary for his birthday. He settled on a little yellow birdie which he named Flutter Nutter. First name Flutter, last name Nutter. He considered some alternative names such as Nutty Fluff (ew, makes me think of hairy balls?) and Cannie Can Can (just to overstate the fact that he's a canary). He is very cute and thus far has survived the continual attention of Miss Frannie, who likes to climb up on a step ladder and push her squishy little face up against the cage whilst making various high pitched noises.
Today she took it one step further and said "I could bite your tiny yellow head off", which I take full responsibly for as I often stand and observe Monsignor birdie and imagine how easy it would be to put his tiny head between my teeth. Okay, that sounds a lot worse than it is. The context here is that I find him ridiculously cute and grit my teeth when I talk to him (as I would a kitty or a baby) and as it not possible to inflict the affection I have for him onto him (because his little birdie bones would be instantly crushed), I have to tell him.
You get it. I don't really want to decapitate the bird. I just like him a lot. Anyway, when Annie said it, it was a) ridiculously cute (seriously, imagine her little baby girl voice saying "tiny yellow head") and b) a little worrying because she could easily repeat this at child care. I'm sure they've heard far worse, but I'd prefer them not to think my daughter is a serial killer... because cruelty to animals is, after all, one of the warning signs of a future sociopath. There's a chance she might still well be a sociopath, but lets not jump the gun.

Pantless bird accosting

Balloon animal protocol

I promised I would write this down one day. A tid bit if you will.
Balloon animals... seemingly harmless... seemingly.

Oh how I wish I had been given the low down on this before I had a second child. It's very simple really and allows you to avoid the possibility of  a scene that makes the first ten minutes of Saving Private Ryan look like Milo and Otis frolicking through a meadow. Although I probably should say that I'm pretty sure the filming of Milo and Otis involved some priiiitty questionable goings on... animal welfare wise. There's a definite lack of a "no animals were harmed in the making of this movie" disclaimer in the credits. I've checked. A lot. Anyways, I digress...

So here it is. When purchasing balloon animals for children, always, ALWAYS, let the older child choose their balloon first. I know it's tempting to appease the little one who's clawing at your thigh and eyeballing the balloon dude like a junky waiting for their next hit from a crack cocaine dealer, but please, resist. Once the older child has their hands on their pirate sword balloon, THEN, and only then, allow the 3 foot maniac to choose their balloon. They WILL change their mind from the butterfly to the sword, and they will not be swayed to change it back. Easy. Crisis averted. Scene avoided. No need to carry a screaming child sideways on your hip, balloon butterfly in mouth, whilst getting kicked in the stomach, back to the car park. No need to cut short your foolishly envisaged idyllic romp through the Botanical Gardens in the sunshine (fool). Nope.

You're welcome.