A few weeks ago we had a wicked series of thunderstorms. Window rattling, earth shaking, sky lit up like it was the day kind of storms. The next morning we were running around in our wellies and Henry found a robins egg.
Rocky searched the ground to see if there were anymore but didn't find any. Then I began to look in the tree for the nest. It was destroyed. It had rained so hard and the wind was so powerful it had driven this poor little egg out out of his home. Henry's class had just hatched chicks (actually all 5 kindergarten classes - that's a lot of chicks!) and he wanted to try and save his little egg.
So ... I did what every other mother would have done - I got out the martini glass and wrapped the egg in tissues. The glass was for the egg not me (it's the only glass we don't use in this house - silly bloggers).
We waited. And watched. And waited. And watched. And then we forgot ... that is until I removed the glass from the counter. I had to explain that the egg wasn't going to make it, the tissues weren't warm enough, the egg needed it's mommy to sit on it to keep it warm ... and then I had volunteers - both of them. Those sweet boys of mine. They are going to make fine husbands and daddies one day.