As we left, my mom pointed out her new acquisition next to the front door.
She had bought one of those fancy birdhouses that were never intended for birduse. These houses are rediculously ornate, designed as a replica first - avian home secondary. Birds could care less if the waterwheel actually turns or not.
I look at the little birdhouse, and nod my approval.
"You better put a mothball in there," I say.
"You don't want Hobbits moving in."