Our Friend, Robin

Most of the plethora of fledgling birds have left the garden now, booted out by their exhausted parents to go and find their own way in the world. The fluffed up young sparrows and the enormous baby blackbirds no longer pester the adults for scraps, and a calm sense of order has returned to the birdbath.
The only youngster who has decided to stay is the feisty little robin. He now sports a very handsome red bib and has spent most of the summer endearing himself to us with his cheeky curiosity. He has taken a great interest in our activities, watching from close quarters, normally under our feet, as we have trimmed the hedges, built the shed, had water fights, washed the cars (an activity that caused him no end of excitement as it washed out all the spiders, though he did get sprayed a couple of times), and he has claimed a prime spot in the chocolate vine above the patio table and chairs where he can listen in on our conversation when we're sat out there.
He's become ever braver as the weeks have passed, so much so that yesterday I turned around from my desk to see him standing in the open patio door, watching my every move. He remained in place as I obediently hurried through to get the pot of bird seed, then fluttered out onto the patio for his snack.
But if that was a surprise, it was nothing to the shock he gave me today when he hopped right into the dining room and was well on his way to the kitchen when I came around the corner. I gasped, he gasped (I think, though I don't speak robin), I stepped backwards and he took to the wing and flew outside, where he waited by the door for some more seed.
Speculation is rife about what he'll do next, though I think the idea of a robin hammock next to a radiator for him to over-winter in might be going a bit too far!