For the birds

Only Bryce. The other morning a bird flew into our window with a giant "whap!" Daisy was on the move..faster than I've seen her in a long time. I looked out and sure enough, she was poking around a bird with her nose. After struggling to get her to "leave it" and "come", Bryce woke up. Once the door latch on our bedroom door clicked, I immediately began saying, "Oh Bryce, a dead bird is out there in our lawn. It flew into the window, Daisy went to get it, yada yada yada....." His usual fluid movement sauntered down the steps and over to the door. Eventually. It took way too long for me. Then he did an absurd thing! He TOLD Daisy to go out after it! "What?!!?? Don't have HER go and get it! I just corralled her not to. It's so gross. I don't want..." But before I could finish there was Daisy, at the door, with her "prize" in her mouth, tail wagging a mile a minute. Oh the humanity! Or should I say, oh the canine-ity! "Good girl, Daisy." Talk about mixed messages from her parents. Bryce took it over to the kitchen sink, "Oh! It's a dove!" Who cares, just get that thing out of my kitchen! Then it came. The question I was unprepared for. The question I never imagined would come out of his mouth. "How recently did this happen?" As my eyes widened, I silently gasped (it is possible to silently gasp, by the way). I knew what was coming next. Could I ward this off? "I don't know," I lied, "Just get it out of here... NOW! PLEASE!" He knew. I am not sure if it was the tone of my voice that told him I knew what he was thinking. Or maybe it was the married-person-communication-lack-of-words-necessary thing, but he knew it was fresh. In fact, it was the very thing that probably woke him up. It was then that I realized that all men are savage beasts at heart. My rocket scientist husband decided to practice his pioneer man skills and head to his garage.

About 5 minutes later he returned. With the bird. Well, part of the bird. The breast. He intented to eat it.

Now, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that saving a dead bird's breast in a refrigerator in a fold and close baggie is not the best idea. THAT IS WHY ZIPLOCS WERE CREATED! For heaven's sake. My rocket scientist did not transfer this info as his pioneer man's instincts must have overpowered the computer geek ones. Oh the humanity!

After a week of being in my fridge, haunting me each time I opened the door, I had to throw the stupid thing out anyways. Rocket scientists, pioneer men, and my husband don't cook.