Oh, dear, what can the matter be.

And, I'm not talking about Johnny being to long at the fair.

Frankie and I are tending to our flock, I might mention we covered everything in the room with old sheets, so that these creatures can roam about...except for the partridge, who still refuses to leave his pear tree.  They seem much more happy and I think, content. It is surprising how easy this is, and I feel myself growing attached to my feather friends. However, I'm keeping them at a distance because I've always heard if you give them names or otherwise personalize them, it is extremely difficult to break ties when it is time to part.

Me:  "You know, Frankie, after Christmas we are going to have to find homes for this flock?"

This is met with silence.

Me:  "Frankie, did you hear me?"  (I know she did.)

Silence.  This can't be good.  As you all know, she frequently makes me speechless, on the other hand, Frankie is never at a loss for words.

Me:  "Frankie, seriously, we have to talk about what to do about all these creature."  I extend my arm and make a generalized sweep of the room.
Frankie:  "Even Aristotle and Homer?"
Me:  "Who?????????????????'
Frankie:  "Aristotle and Homer."

Oh, brother.  I'm doomed I tell ya, doomed.  I'm afraid to ask, but somehow find the courage to inquire, "And who, exactly, are Aristotle and Homer?"

Frankie, tenderly, carefully, lovingly, cups one of the turtle doves in her hands.  Meekly, she hold the dove out to me.  "Meet Aristotle."
Me:  Frankie, (I'm trying to sound as stern as possible) Didn't I tell you when these birds started to  arrive, DO NOT BECOME ATTACHED...WE WILL NOT GIVE THESE CREATURES NAMES...THEY ARE NOT GOING TO BE HERE THAT LONG.
Frankie:  (Head bowed, full of remorse)  "I know, but I couldn't help it, they are so gorgeous, and they look so...so...so...proud, yet humble, their plumage regal, as though they are sages of sort.  Not rich by any  means, yet dressed as though they were.  They remind me of college professors."

Funny, I'd never thought of that...but they do indeed.

However, this does not help when it comes to getting Frankie to give up Aristotle and Homer when the time comes.  I feel very badly.  Somehow 'Charlotte's Web' flashes through my mind.  But,I'm going to have to put on my 'parental' face and be firm.

Me:  "I'm sorry, Frankie, we can't keep the birds.  After the holidays we are going to have to give up them up.  Can you imagine what 'Bird Lady' would do if she knew we had this menagerie in our house...she would have a conniption fit...she would puff up, turn red, purple, black, blue and then bust a gusset.   We cannot keep the birds."

Frankie looks as though she going to cry.

Me:  (Feeling like an ogre.) Okay, okay, we don't have to decide anything today.  Just don't name any more of the birds?  Promise me you won't name any more of the birds.

Frankie nods her head and holds Aristotle close, nuzzling him to her cheek.  I've never seen her so child-like.  Well, it is Christmas, the time for wonderment and joy.  Maybe a miracle will happen, time will tell.