Folks, it’s me. Lincoln. Lincoln the delinquent, my mother used to call me. Remember me?

I’m not such a delinquent anymore. I’ve learned to listen to my parents. But today, good grief, what did I see? A baby robin behaving just like I used to. Not listening to his parents. The young robin just sat right out in the open like he was advertising the most delicious crow’s breakfast.

And here he comes, the black marauder, his black beak sharpened for spearing shish kebabs of young robin. Oh I fear for the baby bird. I call over to the mother bird.

She doesn’t look too happy about her baby being so disobedient. “Come here!” she calls. “The crows will get you if you sit out in the open like that. Come here! Come here!”

Oh, I can tell she’s frantic and really annoyed at Junior. Just look at that scowl.

But Junior just sits there, saying, “I’m fine. See me sitting in the sunshine in the grass? I might even find a worm like I saw you doing. You worry too much. I’m fine!”

Oh, no! Here comes that murdering crow. I can hear him with that ugly raspy call, “Caw! Caw!” You’d think he’d just clear his throat and get a nicer voice to come out. I see the black shadow flying overhead. Oh, dear! Oh, dear. Oh, deardeardear! I can’t look. I just have to look away.

I should probably get out of sight myself.

Oh, saints be praised. There’s Anneli, waving her arms like mad. The crow is gone. But Junior is still sitting there.

Ah, thank goodness, Anneli is going over to check on Junior. Maybe he’s hurt?

No. There he goes, flying away. Not hurt. Just bit of a dummy.