“I’m going out to get food for the baby,” she said. “Do you want anything?”

It was clear she wanted him to go and if he didn’t, her feathers would be ruffled.

Too bad, it was her turn.

“I’m good,” he said, whistling a little tune.

She gave him a beady-eyed stare. “Don’t strain yourself.”

Minutes later, she was back. “Nice to see you still perched here doing nothing.”

“Back already? What did you do, fly?”

She shot him a look. He could be such a pecker.

She gazed lovingly into her baby’s face.

And barfed in its open beak.