"Well, let's get to it," I said as I stooped to pick up a stray Care Bear. It was 8 o'clock on Wednesday night and I was missing "One Tree Hill" to help my sis paint Gillian's room in her new house a fresh minty green.
With an armful of princesses, stuffed bears, various ponies and over-priced Fisher Price toys I waddled into Summer's soon to be bedroom and dumped the load in the floor.
"OHno. Well. Thisisabadsign," Summer said from the other room.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Look. Poorthing." A tiny dead bird, two little orange feet pointing north, sat in the bottom of the closet. "Well. That'sabadomen." She sighed and yelled for Brian who came to retrieve the lost soul.
"Oh," he said when he ducked in the doorway (he's tall - but like - really freakin' tall - think Jolly Green Giant - minus the Green). "Can we flush it?"
Summer tittered on about clogs and inhumanity and the like while Brian continued to stare at the bird. Summer fetched a bag.
"So, no flushing, then?" he repeated.
I'm not sure if the dead bird is a "bad omen" or not. Not even really sure how he got in there. But I do know that by the time I got home last night I looked like the offspring of a freaky threesome between Miss Piggy, Handy Smurf and Kermit.