Flight of Fancy We were once the Sparrows, a pair of ordinary birds engrossed in our daily rituals of courtship dances, nest upkeep, and caring for our young. Our tranquil existence took an unexpected turn when you all of a sudden, declared yourself a penguin, adopting a comical waddle, craving fish suppers, and insisting on us being addressed as Mr and Mrs P. "Darling, what on earth has gotten into you?" I asked one day as I watched you flop around in your strange gait-a -go. "I just feel like I belong with them," you replied with a determined look in your eyes. "Them? Who are 'them' exactly?" "Penguins! Don't you see? They're my true family!" You exclaimed, flapping your wings in an excited manner. Your family tree seemed to be a breeding ground for avian identity crises; there was that eccentric uncle convinced he was a peacock trying to woo the peahens, and some distant relative who believed he was part duck until ...
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