*Ainslee*

“Look, Drake! It’s your favorite! Daisies!” I say to my baby son as we take our morning turn around the garden.

I’m not sure Drake is old enough to have a favorite flower, but he does always smile at the daisies, so I’ve decided to just go with it.

As usual, Drake smiles and reaches for the daisies with a chubby fist when I sit us down next to them.

“No, if we grab them, then they lose all their petals,” I admonish him gently.

“A great shame, indeed,” a voice chimes in behind me.

I turn and see a feeder in yellow standing in the garden. “Oh!” I...