Living at the edge of nowhere has its advantages and its disadvantages. On one hand, nobody lives behind us. It is literally miles from our back yard until any signs of civilization. On the other hand, there are deer who wander from that open field into our yard and eat my pretties. It never fails that winter will set in and the deer will decide that the evergreen bushes at each corner of the house are the tastiest snacks in all the land. Except, they only eat the bottom 2/3rds of the evergreen bushes, so basically they trim them to be penis-shaped every winter.
I mean, well, they do. That is the exact shape they leave my bushes.
Ahem.
Thus, spring shows up every year and I find myself wanting to cut down the bushes. And yet I don't. Because this.
Every year. Every single year there are nests with eggs, so I let the giant green penis bushes live. By the time the babies fly away, the bushes have started to recover from the the deer snacking on them, so I leave everything alone. Lather, rinse, repeat.
This year Mila is making things worse. This year Mila is all in on checking on the eggs and babies every day, so there's no way I'll be cutting down the bushes any time soon. It's pretty adorable the was Mila rushes out the door each morning and waits patiently to be lifted up to see the babies, so whatever. It's fine.
Except, weirdness has ensued.
That nest with five eggs? Well, that has turned into a nest with one baby. That's kind of bad news, but one is better than none, so.
But that one.
It's ... uh ... well ... in theory there's no such thing as an ugly baby. Buuuuuut.
Sorry, but brand new baby birds are disgusting. THEY ARE.
And yet, Miss Mila literally "awwwwwwwwwwwwed" when she saw it for the first time. As if it were cute or something. Which, IT'S NOT.
So why exactly are children born thinking ugly babies are cute? Because this phenomenon is so confusing.