I know they talk about me. They’re pathetic. Waddling, broody old birds—fluffed up and self-righteous, huddled in cackling, gossiping groups on the beach while the kids are swimming—until I arrive, and there’s an icy silence.
Well they don’t bother me. They think life’s an easy downhill glide but I know better. You take what you can get and you pebble your own nest, so to speak.
My future’s secure and my children come home to the best roost in the neighbourhood. And I’ve got their men to thank for it. Let them brood on that.
I came across some startling information while I was browsing for a story idea about pebbles and nests. I couldn’t resist. This Wikipedia article explains it all, if you’re wondering.
And just for sheer delight, have a look at this video. It doesn’t touch on the disgraceful extra-marital shenanigans explained in the above article, but it does show an example of my penguin character’s ‘pebble your own nest’ attitude. It’s the cutest thing.