Learning to Fly

"Move, little birdie," I uttered in vain as I drove the minivan carefully beside the baby bird who was perched in the middle of the road.

"Momma!" Daughter 1 cried out looking back at the birdie still in the middle of the road. "He's hurt!"

"I don't think so," I assured her. "He's just young as learning to fly."

"How do you know it's a he?" she argued.

"You just called it a he," I reminded her.

"Yeah, but, he might be hurt," she said still looking through the back window, rolling her eyes at my ge...