There's a bit of a theme emerging here. Photo after photo of some bird or other wide mouthed and squawking.
This morning it was on the riverbank in the cultural precinct near the Gallery of Modern Art where I spotted these Welcome Swallows (I'm getting good at using the Big Book of Google to identify Brisbane birds aren't I?)
I'll call today's composition Homework Time. The young one is in full voice letting the older one have it.
Meanwhile, there's a patient and understanding stance from the older, wiser bird. It watches on silently and stoically waiting for the squawking to let up. Just like my place at homework time (and if you believe that ....)
Truth is most of the squawking comes from me. I say I won't nag. I say that Mr 14 is big enough and ugly enough to live by the consequences of not doing what's set. I wait a bit and then I nag and nag and nag.
I'm sure one day he'll thank me. But for the moment, I have to say I'm kind of over the homework headache. I already did Year 9. I did pretty bloody well at it too as I recall so it makes no sense to worry about it all over again.
That type of behaviour is strictly for the birds.