If you'd never taken care of a proper child, you'd never know what a monumental undertaking feeding one could be. This job ought to be ranked alongside Head of State duties, cutting-edge scientific research, and accompanying your wife shopping as one of the world's four greatest extreme occupations, and listed as part of humanity's intangible cultural heritage...
Little Crow was so hopelessly clumsy at learning to use utensils that words could barely describe it. I finally got a very direct understanding of just how much awkwardness a creature could experience after having its entire body replaced. Mediva had still been a bird a few days ago. She had no idea what the difference was between using arms and wings, nor was she used to suddenly having fingers. To her, gripping things was practically an impossible task, especially precisely controlling the movement of two chopsticks with four fingers. I'd heard that foreigners studying how Chinese people used chopsticks had once painstakingly researched and drawn a whole series of equations and graphs on mechanics. Now I felt that foreign friend probably hadn't faced the most miserable chopstick-learning challenge after all. Let him come see how a bird learned to use chopsticks...
In the end, Little Crow's only method of using utensils was grabbing them by the fistful. Knives, forks, chopsticks, and little spoons all became pry bars in her hands. By the end of one meal, she had successfully spread food evenly across an area of two square meters, including herself and Anweina. I'd dodged quickly enough, or I definitely would have ended up the same way. After realizing there was no way to get Little Crow proficient with her hands in the short term, Anweina could only feed the silly bird one bite at a time. The scene was exceptionally heartwarming.