Dirty Birdie

Don't think because I have not written in a few weeks that we have not had any comedy in our home. Nope. I'm not sure if there is a day that goes by when there isn't something humorous with our two kids and "Dude".
The toilet in our bathroom had been out of order for about three months or so. We did not know what happened to it but the two adults put two and two together and safely wagered that one of the minors did something to it. We were fair- we asked them who did it and how it happened.
"Well mommy-" one started, then I cut it short. "Never mind!" I said. When they start with "Well" this is equivalent to an adult saying, "What had happened was".
We figured one or both of 'em flushed something that should not have been flushed. My bet was on the five-year-old and her gullible brother was an accomplice. Our daughter is good at rallying the troop. When she was three, the Sunday School teacher caught her in the stall of the church bathroom, plunging the toilet after trying to flush her new Christmas purse. I loved that purse. It had a matching dress and jacket. I know I'm getting off the point but I want to just give you a feel for how upset I was when the purse was ruined. I didn'teven know she knew how to use a plunger at three or that they kept one in the bathroom of the church. Anyway.....
After months of having to run upstairs to use the bathroom, Dude finally decided to try to fix the toilet himself. He must have googled information about fixing it because he did things that made sense: cut off the water to the house from the outside, then took the toilet completely up and took it outside to pump it out. I'm not sure about everything he pulled out of there but I heard a lot of griping and sucking of the teeth.
"Look at this! This makes no sense! Now see this- um, um, um, um" were just some things I could make out.
After about fifteen more minutes of gripes and "What is this?", he found what had caused all the grief: a toy bird.
"Oh I remember that bird," I told him. "I haven't seen it and forgot all about it."
Daddy was proud. He fixed it and saved us from spending money on a plumber. Now Daddy will tell you he's not a "Mr. Fix It", so it was enough to make him stick out his chest and suck on some sunflower seeds wearing his 'OWBOYS shirt.
Our son was extremely excited to be reunited with his toy bird. He ran over to get it, not realizing two things: 1) We knew it was his so there was a chance that uh...he did it; 2) It had been in the toilet for some time now blocking other things trying to go through that needed to go through, which meant it was very dirty.
"Daddy can I have my bird?" he asked. "No!" I quickly responded. "That bird is going IN the trash can".
He began crying so I tried to be a good rational parent and calmly explained that "the bird is too dirty and you have plenty of other toys to play with".
He continued to cry.
"He, he, will be sad by heself in the flashcan," he explained. "He, he feelings gone be hurt".
I continued to try to talk nicely and calm him down, but he continued with his tantrum. He began running in place- looking like the girl from the movie, Flashdance. I'd finally snapped and said, through my teeth, "You not gettin' that dirty birdie back. That bird almost cost us some money for a plumber so I don't care about that bird!"
He got himself together finally. He began walking away then glared back at me. Using two fingers he poked himself in the eye and said, "I got yo' eyes on you!"
I thought, "Isn't that supposed to be, 'I got MY eyes on you'?