Yesterday I had to go up to San Francisco for a dermatology appointment, so Julian was going to visit with Grandma Ida for the morning.

We were almost there when suddenly several birds flew right across the car's path and were smacked by our windshield.

"What DAT?!" piped up Julian from the back seat.

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a mourning dove fluttering up from the road. Hopefully I only stunned it...ugh.

"Oh honey, Mama hit a bird with the truck. Mama is very sorry. Poor bird."
(No, I don't really have a truck, it's a Honda Civic Hybrid, the least truck-like car ever. But that's what Julian calls it, so be it.)

"Oooooohh! Mommy and a bird and a truck and a ....oh no!"

"I know baby. It's very sad. Mommy hurt the bird with the truck. The bird was in the street and the truck came by and BOOM, the bird was hurt."

I figured I would try to at least make a lesson out of the tragedy.
"That's why you have to stay out of the street. The street is very dangerous. A bird or a baby or a doggie can be in the street and then a car comes and BOOM! OUCH!"

"Ouch," repeated Julian. "Bird and a truck and a OH NO! HURT!"

This tragedy was the subject of discussion for the rest of the day. We would be playing or doing something else, and then suddenly Julian would proclaim with wide eyes, "Mommy and a baby and a bird and a truck and a OH NO!"

He hasn't mentioned it yet today. I have to go drop off a check for swimming lessons after Julian wakes up from his nap. Maybe being in the car will bring up the subject again. Dang Mommy and her Truck of Destruction. Bird HURT! Oh NO!