I waved my two little fledgings off to school this morning, and came home to tend to our newest hatchlings - who emerged from their shells on the very last day of school holidays. Five beautiful little balls of fluff taking tentative forays from under their mothers' wings to stagger around the feed bowl and back again.
That is a bit how the first day of pre-primary felt for Darcy and me. He spent morning circle with his face buried into the couch by my side, but was circling the playground on his tricycle by the time I left and will be coming home for a slice of plum cake on the back lawn very soon.
He is looking forward to taking a chick in for news next week. A yellow one, as white blond as he. Only with much fluffier feet.
For some reason I tear up whenever I watch this film clip - thinking of my own little ones flying the nest. But it is still a rocking good tune, and will no doubt be played on high rotation to the chicks when they come to pay us house visits, smuggled in from the garden in little boys' hands.