Here at the Thumbcocker compound we believe in giving a hand up to those down on their luck. Generally this is a good thing. But, sometimes, things go wrong. The hand up becomes an entitlement. A way of life if you will.
It all began in 4th grade. Our science book talked about "Nature's tiny helicopters" complete with photos and glowing prose about how they migrate great distances. I was enthralled.
With fond memories of 4th grade science, and the very best of intentions we put up feeders here at the compound. Help the little guys along on their migration route. We also have a mimosa tree in the yard.
What hath we wrought? Despite multiple feeders the recipients of our largess fight among themselves to the point that often no one gets to use the feeders.
There's more. When the feeders run low I top them off with a squeeze bottle of nectar. Fair enough. But to be engaged in refilling the feeder and having one or more of the little ill tempered miscreants hovering at arms length glaring at me while I do it is well just a little unnerving. Chalk it up to my watching "The Deadly Mantis" at an impressionable age but I get to wondering. Fukushima radiation, mutations, angry turkey sized nectar suckers, me being held captive and forced to constantly refill 55 gallon drum sized feeders. Scary.
Just look at the expression on the face of the nectar swilling little sucker. Is he thankful? NO! He is sucking down nectar like it is his birthright. I guess I will lay in the bed I have made.
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