This morning my beloved and I crossed paths in the dining room: he was on his way to bed, and I was having breakfast. Somewhere in the conversation, a cardinal landed on the railing of the deck outside.
Me: Look! A cardinal!
Cardinal: (turns toward us, and we can see that he has some birth defect that has given him a hunchback and a head as bald as a vulture’s.)
Me: Oh, the poor bird!
Me: Egad, he looks like a vulture!
Hank: (gently) He doesn’t know he looks like a vulture.
Cardinal: (burst of liquid song, wild and joyous)
Hank: See? He’s singing.
Draw your own conclusions.