I was born on June 4th, 2017. I was just a wee thing, with 2 brothers and 2 sisters. My Mom is beautiful and she and Dad feed us often. Big, fat, juicy squishy bugs. Yum, yum! There was a funny-looking creature that kept opening our nest door and peeking in. Mom & Dad would scream at her, but still she came to visit us a lot. She would make funny noises and count to 5 every time time she opened the door. Did she just come here to practice her counting?
Today, my Dad told me, "Son, it's time to spread your wings."
I could hear my friend's Mom telling him he too must learn to fly today He didn't look too happy about it either.
I even have my own personal escort crew in hot-standby. Not too sure I really trust these guys to "help" though.
We have seen what happens to the neighbors' kids that attempt to fly at this
age. They end up in funny positions, with others pushing them off
railings, porches and perches. Still, Dad is refusing to bring more bugs, while I just continue to sit here.
Man, that's just wrong. Where's that nice lady with the crickets when you need her? How about counting out 5 of those, lady? I finally decided that I would catch my own - I'm getting hungry. Except, I haven't exactly gotten very far. Still no food deliveries. They said I had to FLY, they didn't specify how far!
Well, I thought hanging out here for a big would be a good idea, but maybe not.
Nope, definitely not.
Even Dad isn't acting very happy about my resting here. What? Still no FOOD?
Mom knows how to get me moving. It's a small snack, but it will do until I get my bearings.
Another 200 feet and Mom finally hands it over. One small step for purple martindom, one giant leap for me. My future is looking bright already.
