A massacre took place on my kitchen table this morning.
Rest in Peace, Bird.
I had placed him on our kitchen table last night while I cleaned his home in our windows above the kitchen sink. I suppose that makes me an accomplice because I should have known his demise was inevitable. The Little Guy pulled him apart piece by piece as soon as they were left alone together after breakfast. It was not pretty and the Big Guy cried when he found him and said his brother had killed his most precious and special school project (there is a tendency for drama in all of our children). When he got over it the Little Guy threw the pieces away and we have returned to our regular lives.
In 2 years the Little Guy will be in Kindergarten and I will send in another tube sock and bottle so he can bring home Bird 2. It seems only natural that Baby Girl should have a shot at him.
2 days ago