From that clock, shaped like a birdhouse, every now and then a small cuckoo came out, a noisy animal that reminded me of a dove. Of course, the animal was fake and the noise it made was a recording that was repeated every time the clock struck the hour.
To be honest, I didn’t like it. He reminded me of what usurpers real cuckoos are, laying their eggs in nests that are not theirs. Thus, other birds care for and feed their chick without them giving a damn about the water.
Something similar happened with my aunt, who frequently left her son at my house.
When I was little it bothered me to share my toys, my room and even food with my cousin; but now I have learned that I also share games, friendship, laughter and conversations with him. And I love that he comes home.