Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Just Ducky

Duck- noun (and really, we all know how to pronounce this one)

1.  Any of various swimming birds in which the neck and legs are short, the feet typically webbed, the bill often broad and flat, and the sexes usually different from each other in plumage

2. The flesh of any of these birds used as food

My darling Crow, when she was almost 3 years old caught a duck.  I'm not sure which of us was more stunned, the duck, Crow or myself.

Crow wasn't feeling well, so off to the doc we go.  It had rained a lot the day before, so every parking lot I saw was full of lovely puddles for ducks.  After being told she had yet another sinus infection, we left the office and went to hop into the big ugly van.  She took a detour.  Crow snuck up on a duck, caught it and started petting it.  Of all the things in my life that I've said, I never thought I'd yell the words, "Put the duck down!"  I never, ever considered that combination of words our of my mouth. Ever.  Who says that?

So, back into the doc's office for hand sanitizer.  Because she picked up a duck. And he comes around the corner, and being the good doc that he is and concerned we are back within 10 minutes, asks what's wrong.  I didn't want to tell him.  I have a history of over-reacting to my children's illnesses and I live by Murphy's Law.  It's embarrassing.  I did tell him we just popped back up for the hand sanitizer, and after the look he shot my way (think him calling Child Protective Services...) I told him.  When he was done laughing at the fact that my daughter caught a duck, he gave me more sample sizes of sanitizer for my purse.  God bless him.

I was laughing when I picked the other short people up from school [I'm not brave enough to homeschool like Nina] [You typed it wrong, the word is "crazy". -Nina] I told them about the 'duck incident'.  Bank wanted to know, since she loves duck so much, if I had killed it and brought it home.  Really? I have killer shoes.  I do not hunt. Who is that spawn of mine?  She was 4 at the time. She is still a foodie and not afraid of where her food comes from.  Good and bad from that, but I digress...

When relating the story to Q later that day, between my fits of laughter mind you, Bank asked me what was for dinner.  It was right around her birthday [For an entire week at birthday times thy get to pick breakfast and dinner] so it was her week to pick the menu. Oh.my.god.  We were having roasted duck, Bank's favorite.  I had to sit down.  My family could not tell if I was weeping or laughing.  I thought I was going to pee my pants.  

So, the duck we had that night came from the grocery store, not the parking lot.  The doc thinks I'm crazy, not too far off the mark.  And, I've discovered that there are sentences and exclamations you never think you will have to speak.  And, catching water fowl is a little more dangerous than I once thought; Crow has almost fallen into harbors while trying to repeat the experience.  She find great delight in creating germ-induced (it was bird flu mania!) panic attacks in her mother.  [She was also one of the first kids to be diagnosed with swine flu in the mid atlantic, my germ phobia is understandable with her.  I'm raising 3 petri dishes who are so cute, smart and funny, but I swear they lick grocery carts when I'm not looking.]



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