rivercrow

This morning I decided to eat the last, overripe, banana for breakfast. It was too soft for bird paws to hold–or so I thought. The Grey flew to the sofa as soon as she saw the banana in play. I took her back to her cage and offered her a taste. She took a nibble, then grabbed the fruit with her foot. Fine. I broke off a segment and left her to it.

Later, she resumed following my husband around the house. The first time she landed on him, he realized that her feet were still sticky from soft banana. She followed him down the hall and he again had to ward off banana feet.

“You too can have banana feet,” I said to him as he returned the Grey to her cage for the fourth time.

“We’ve evolved past that,” he said.

I suppose. Banana feet.

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