are you my mother?

to preface: I HATE BIRDS. they are disgusting beady eyed rats with wings. they carry disease and poop on everything.

but at work the other day i held a baby bird!

[not my hand]

during the tree-taking-down-process mike [concrete removal foreman] went running to the backhoe operator and made him stop. he was then lifted in the digging scoop into the tree to attempt to find where cheeping was emanating from. much to his dismay the nest could not be found so work continued. as the tree was ripped apart branch by branch roy [concrete pouring foreman] frantically waved his hands for work to pause. wading waist deep into the pile of felled branches, he reached in and popped out a baby bird! we found the mother bird near by flipping out [naturally, as her home and babies had been potentially been destroyed] and stuffed the baby through the fence towards her.

work continued until roy signaled yet another stop, reached into the branches and pulled out yet another baby bird. this one though... bonded with roy in the are you my mother? sense. after escaping back out through the fence no less than 3 times, it finally went squawking back to its mother.

since roy and the concrete guys are from portugal, perhaps the better phrase from the bird would be "você é minha mãe?"