"The Things We Do For Love"

My husband was mowing the lawn today when he opened the door and yelled inside, "Kathie, come here!"  His tone sounded somewhat urgent, so I got right up.  He met me at the door and said, "I need your help!"  I could not imagine why he might need me in the yard.  Other than pulling the occasional weed and harvesting some veggies and herbs, I have not done any yard work in 24+ years of married life (okay, in all my life I have never done yard work and everyone, as well as the lawn and the plants, are happier and healthier for it, I assure you)!  He led me to the back yard, handed me a broom, and told me to stand in a certain place.  He then told me a bird had dive-bombed him twice as he was mowing a certain portion of our backyard; he actually felt its wings brush against him.  He wondered at this and thought that, perhaps, the bird was sick.  As John watched the bird, he noticed it was flying around a certain tree in our yard.  He realized the bird had made a nest in that tree, a nest which had several baby birds in it.  He was mowing close to the tree and mama bird must have viewed him as a threat and was trying to move him away from her babies.  My job was to stand in my appointed place and watch for the bird, periodically waving the broom around (not to hurt her, just to keep her a safe distance away from my husband).  John said he was going to mow that area very quickly, but it was important that I keep close watch because the bird sometimes came from behind to dive at him.  Picture this scene, if you can: John is mowing the lawn, head down, practically at a sprint; I am looking all around the yard, calling out the bird's location and occasionally waving the broom around in a circle above my head.  I kid you not.  The song, "The Things We Do For Love" leapt to mind.