deadbird

Day Seventy-six: Photo props left in the window.

Boy Wonder: (walking past the remains of a photo shoot)  Mom! That’s not a dead bird! Is it?

Me:  Yes, it is a dead bird. I just went outside and whacked the first black bird of a specific size over the head. You know, so I could take a pretty picture. Don’t you think people will want to buy my candles more if there are recently deceased birds in the product shots?

Ok, I didn’t really say that.

Seriously? Dead bird? Where does he get this stuff? I cannot roll my eyes further into my head without risking brain injury. There is entirely too much sarcasm and not enough common sense in this house.