My pair of keets

I've been a bit nervous to let the parakeets out of their cage for some exercise.  Their previous owner let them fly free weekly but told me I'd have to catch them to get them back into the cage.  "They'll bite," she warned, "especially the green one." 
I could tell they enjoyed stretching their wings as they flew loop de loops around the master bathroom.  They'd perch on the shower ring or the fabric banner tacked to the wall momentarily and take off again for another lap. 
After an hour or so I moved the open cage to the middle of the room and pointed at it hopefully, "Okay, birds, back in your cage.  Go."  No such luck. 
I've caught the odd bird that got into the house through an open door before using a dish towel, so I felt like I already had the relevant experience to get this done.  These parakeets, though, have humans all figured out.  They gauged my arm's reach and hopped around the shower ring just beyond it, their two pairs of birdie feet in unison.  So I resorted to swishing the towel around, sending them into panicked flight.  It's great exercise, I rationalized, for them and for me.  After a few attempts I gently caught the green one against the windowsill and cradled her in the towel.  I released her back into the cage.  The blue girl squawked loudly a few times, flew over to the cage and jumped inside to join her friend.