Boy Meets Kea, Boy Sleeps Through Experience

I set out to buy one of those baby carrier thingies so I could take the wee one to meet the Kea at Willowbank.

I haven't figured out how to get him into the darned thing without looking like some clumsy Houdini wannabe with a tiny assistant.

It was cool and windy when we went out so I had put A in his white sweater knitted for him by his great grandmother in the U.K.

It bunched up around the arms and neck in the carrier and made him look like some sort of human/puff pastry hybrid.

I hadn't made it through the front door of the park before he had fallen asleep in his pouch.

I walked down to the Kea enclosure and was greeted by all the usual crowd who always take turns perching on me, pulling my hemline, trying to deconstruct my footwear, plucking at my sweater or jacket and  gently fluffing my hair about in a gesture that may be allopreening.

Two birds actually peered down at the baby from my shoulder and seemed to be giving him a study.

One of the juveniles tried to have a pull at his sock before I blocked him with my hand.

I do wonder what they think of him.

I was hoping he would gaze at them through his blue gray eyes and form some early infant memory that would propel him to study them in depth at a later age.

Oh well, he's only a month old. Mustn't rush things.