EAGLES

Baron and I were making the rounds of the neighborhood when we spied a pair of eagles on top a transmission line pole. "Spied" is probably not the right word, as we heard them first. It looked like one was a mature adult and the other an adult, but maybe just beyond the juvenile stage. Let's call him the "teenager." They were chattering away, and then flew from pole to pole, doing some preening, resting and maybe discussing their trip.

Teenager: "I don't wanna go on migration, just because that's what we've always done."

Mom: "Trust me, we need to do it for lots of reasons, principal among them our food supply."

Teenager: "But I just want my safe space. I don't want to hear about going hungry, I've never wanted for anything before, let's just stay here. No threats to hear or see; nothing I don't want to see or hear."

Mom: (Unlike, apparently, the current crop of mothers!) "Get off your perch and fly. I'm not going to starve, I'm going to migrate. You are coming with me."

Teenager: "Whine."

I'm not an expert on Eagle-ese, but that is what I think they were saying. She should have guided the teenager to Yale or Missouri, they would take him in and let him know that the world is not a dangerous place, if you whine you get anything you want and you CAN BE Peter Pan.