Four Bluetits
Two bluetits were sitting on a branch looking across the garden at a wooden nesting box nailed to the back of the house. Two other bluetits were hopping in and out of the box.
‘Look at it,’ said Max. ‘I ask you. Modern homes.’
‘I know,’ agreed Jim. ‘Plywood rubbish.’
‘I mean, that’s not a home, not a proper home you’d want to bring kids into, is it?’ said Max. ‘I mean, where are the nice knot holes and the rough bark crawling with all those tasty insects? Where are the body lice hiding in the cracks?’
‘Yeah, it’s just a bloomin’ box,’ said Jim.
‘I tell you what,’ Max continued, ‘you put a load of grass and fluff in there, six eggs and the wife, and the bottom’ll fall out of it. You’ll see.’
‘I know,’ agreed Jim, ‘but you can’t tell them, can you?’
‘Tell them, tell them? I should think not. I’ve not had a minute’s peace since those boxes were put up.’
‘The man’s put a couple of big ones up over there, see?’ said Jim. ‘And a pair of starlings were straight in there before he’d even put his hammer away.’
‘Well, what do you expect with starlings,’ laughed Max. ‘Thick as two short planks.’
The two birds laughed so much they almost fell off their twig. Max hung upside down and said, ‘Here, how many starlings does it take to change a light bulb?’
‘Dunno?’
‘None, because they’re all too thick.’
The two birds began laughing so much that this time they did fall out of the tree.
‘Well, you won’t get me into one of them,’ said Jim as they flew over to a new bird feeder. ‘Not in a million years.’
‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ said Trixie, hopping out of the nesting box. ‘A home of our own.’
‘Gorgeous,’ said Katie.
‘Every modern convenience you could wish for,’ said Trixie. ‘Just look at that entrance hole, a perfect circle.’
‘I envy you, I really do,’ agreed Katie.
‘And would you look at that perch. Go on, have a hop on it.’
‘Ooh, isn’t it fabulous,’ said Katie, ‘just the right size for your feet.’
‘I know. And look at that lovely bit of felt on the top and those shiny little nails. That’s quality that is.’
‘And what about Jim?’ asked Katie. ‘What does he think?’
‘Think, think? He doesn’t think,’ said Trixie. ‘He’s too busy hanging round that new bird feeder all day showing off to the sparrows to think.’
‘My Max won’t have one,’ said Katie. ‘He says they’ll fall to bits.’
‘They’ll outlast the pair of them,’ laughed Trixie. ‘My Jim’s so fat from eating peanuts I shouldn’t think he could even get in the door.’
‘So fat they’ll have to live in that big box over there,’ laughed Trixie.
‘Yeah, next to the stupid starlings,’ roared Katie and they both shook so much with laughter that the nesting box fell off its hook onto the lawn.
‘See,’ said Max, looking down at the pieces of broken wood on the grass. ‘I told you they weren’t safe.’