It was the chubby dove's fault.
"Look at that poor thing," my daughter said, pointing at a twig-toting dove that hovered by a birdhouse in our back yard. "She can't fit through the hole."
The large-bottomed bird was having little luck fitting much more than her beak into the house. I felt an immediate swell of compassion. I've been there, feathered sister. I know your pain.
That same morning, I'd tried to fit into last summer's shorts. The dove stood a better chance fitting through the nugget-sized door.
"It's not fair that birdhouses have such tiny holes," said Celeste. "I bet she's feeling just like you get when you're going through a clearance rack filled with nothing but 3s."
My girl knows just which buttons to push. We soon were shopping for a bigger, better birdhouse.
We came back empty-handed.
"Can't we just build one?" Celeste asked.
"Can't we just drill a bigger hole in the old one?"
"But the entire house is too small," she said.
"Explain that to the dove," I said. "What kind of self-respecting bird is she anyway? She should be collecting sticks and doing that whole nature thing, not trying to freeload housing from a stranger."
"I'll go with you to ReStore to get wood," Celeste said.
Like I said, she knows which of my buttons to push. I'm addicted to ReStore (where Habitat for Humanity sells new and used building materials). I make regular visits hoping to find just the right treasures to make possible - and affordable - one of the many projects on my wish list of renovations.