Birds Of A Feather

The other day my daughter and I took our dog for a walk around a local pond. We explored the reeds, quacked at the ducks and enjoyed just being outside in nature together. Of course I automatically switched into teacher mode. My poor children—everything seems to turn into a “teachable moment.” You can take the girl out of teaching, but you can’t take teacher out of the girl. Sorry, that sounds wrong—in a very “blue pages” kind of way. (Ontario teachers will totally get that reference.)

I talked to Avery about the insects and the flowers. She feigned interest for about a minute, but was more interested in leaning beyond the railing of the bridge to get a good look at the ducks. If I hadn’t had a tight grasp on her belt I’m pretty sure there would have been a splash followed by a BayWatch style rescue of some kind.

Then in the distance in the marsh, I spotted a Great Blue Heron. I was excited. I squealed, “Avery! Look! It’s a heron. A heron!” She turned immediately. The kid apparently enjoys birds as much as her nerdy mom. She scanned the horizon and strained to see. “Do you see the heron?” I asked.

Then she took off running in the direction I was pointing yelling, “Adam! Liam! Friends! My friends! My coming!”

What the?

Oh wait…

I said HERON….

she thought I said SHARON!

Adam and Liam are my friend Sharon’s sons and Avery adores them. Sharon…heron. Close enough. And they have similarly graceful necks.

P.S. You know your friend is a keeper when you pop over to her house and ask her to pose like a heron “for no reason I just need you to for something” and she just does it, no questions asked.   

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