I have recently learned the joys of owning a cellphone. (I know, you don't even have to say it.) Anyway, I'm on my way to work today and I gave my mom a quick call. As we're chatting, a bird hit my windshield and there were feathers and blood and I yelped. It wasn't my fault, but I still felt bad as I turned on the wipers. (wah.) I told my mom what happened, and her response was, "Aw, it was probably a little baby bird that fell out of it's nest."

Thanks, Mom. That's helpful. I was kind of hoping it was a cranky old coot that had lived a full life and simply keeled over of old age, in midflight, and landed on my windshield.

But your version is much more comforting.

(I'm just messing with you, Mom.)