I don't have any pictures of this, although I wish to the heavens that I did. The other day I crawled into my room to play with some of my toys when daddy said he thought he heard something fall down in the laundry room. Naturally he opened the door and out flew out a bird. I'm not an expert on the subject, so I do not know what kind of bird it was. Daddy at first thought it was a bat, I know because of the scream that followed.
OK maybe it wasn't a scream, but there was definite
mumbling for God. But in my version of the story, it was screams. The next thing I know he is running in my room, slamming the door, and laughing
hysterically. He gathers himself, and goes out to do battle with the bird in my honor. I cried alone in my room, worried about his safety.
OK, I cried because I wanted to go out and laugh at his attempt to get the bird out of the apartment. Ten minutes later, daddy comes back into my room, triumphant. You should have seen the look on his face. To bad I started laughing because all I could hear was him screaming.
OK, fine, there really was not any screaming, but you have to
admit that it makes for a better story. And for as long as I tell it, it will be included.