An epic paper airplane modeling contest started at my home this morning, with trials and races taking place in the same room I was eating breakfast in.
After several “accidental” crash landings into my head, caffeine became unnecessary as I abruptly found myself wide-awake.
My requests for my offspring and their Top Gun aspirations to relocate led to more mischief, including an impromptu air show in the adjacent room with ceiling fan-powered takeoffs!
At this point, I strongly encouraged the air show to move to an outdoor venue. When I say strongly encouraged, I really mean I opened the back door and told them the air show needed more air (as in fresh air).
Later in the day, I noticed the kids left an airplane, well what was left of one, outside. I told them to go pick it up and to not leave paper in the yard.
As I am telling my kids this, a bird landed in the yard and began making repeated trips to the crash site. She was cleaning up my kids’ trash to make a nest.
While my children counted this as a win, I was dumbfounded. Why don’t birds clean up messes for me? This moment felt like a scene straight from Disney’s Animated Cinderella!
On a positive note, I no longer have to look at the paper in the yard; however, I now have to look at in my tree.