My son runs up to my bedroom, where I am still clouded in comforters with the shades drawn, pretending I can sleep forever, and he says, "Mom! Come downstairs! I need help!"
"A bird fell down our chimney and's flying around the kitchen trying to get out!"
"Well, then. I suppose that means I should get up."
Couldn't find it at first, since it had given up battering itself against the window. We found it on the windowsill, panting. It was a small black bird with tiny grey flecks over the back of the head, with a narrow yellow bill and red legs.
It flew away after a few minutes of recovery in the potted plant outside the kitchen window. Wonder what it's blogging about today.