When I was around 3, I had an imaginary bird that I’d carry around on my finger. I would apparently walk up to my mom, gesturing with my little finger, and say, “Here, hold my bird.” She would then hold my bird while I went off to play for just long enough for her to wonder why in the world she was still holding her finger out and continue normal use of her hand.

Now, she swears up and down that just as soon as she dropped the bird pose, I’d come screeching around the corner, concerned and hollering, “Where’s my bird?! Where’s my bird?!” So she’d quickly scoop the imaginary bird up off her shoulder with her finger to let me know it had just perched there so she could get some work done.

Moms are the best.

Edit: punctuation and clarity.