Birds

It was the Critical Moment. As I slipped into my outing clothing, I counted the seconds going by. Research shows that in almost 90% of all instances of children being enslaved to do household chores, the event which triggers a Call To Duty by parents is when the children are getting dressed to go out. Uncanny, yet true. Hence, the term Critical Moment.

Familiar? You bet.

"Hanting! Quick! Come here!" yelled my mother from upstairs. Some things don't change.

This time, it wasn't maggots (click to see previous post). In fact, it was a bit higher up the food chain. Hanting, Dish Washing Overlord, Sweeper of Worlds, Destroyer of Maggots, was on the verge of accumulating yet another title. Hanting, Rescuer of Little Birdies.

Because there it was, the poor little bird, feebly flapping for life in the toilet bowl. I kid you not. Somehow, the bird had plummuted out of the air, hoping like hell to land somewhere soft, and ended up in my mum's loo. I strained my ears - yes, the other birds outside were laughing like mad.

This was no time for squeamishness, no time for dilly-dallying. I plunged my hand right in, and lifted it up gently. It gripped my fingers as hard as it could, shivering all the while, eyes closing, opening, closing. How much time did it have left?

(If it was my brother's loo, I would have flushed it down straightaway. It wouldn't have had much chance of survival, anyway)

Bed! It needed a bed! So I emptied my mum's jewellery box, lined it with cotton and tissue, and tipped the bird it. Done.

Food! It needed food! What did birds eat, besides worms? After 14 years of Science education failed me for a few more minutes, I peeled a few grapes and crushed a few bits of Kueh Bangkit into the box. Done.

Heat! It needed heat! I wanted to leave the bird under a solar lamp, but didn't want to return a while later to find it on fire, so I tried out my brother's new hair dryer. But it was far too strong, it kept blowing the poor thing off the table, so in the end I settled for leaving it under the afternoon sun. Done.

I paced the study room like a dad awaiting the birth of his first child. 10 minutes later, believe it or not, I heard a chorus of chirping from outside, and upon rushing outside I found the bird I saved (I christened her Daphne) perched in the shrubs together with her family!

Sheesh. I've never felt like a Hao Gong Ming before.