Be Nice to Your Foot Duck!
Dec. 18th, 2008 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
attackfishThe last chapter of my original fiction novel along with my finals, registering for classes, and Hanukkah preparations thoroughly pounded me into the ground, but I have my last final tomorrow, and then I'm home free until late January. This particular blog post is therefore overdue by about a month. The Monday after Thanksgiving break, I was walking by the University duck pond when all of the ducks took it into their heads to migrate to the other duck pond at the exact same time. Hundreds of ducks waddled across the lumpy lawn, the parking lot, and the foot bridge, quacking and squabbling, leaving little dark green pellets all over the grass.
The school ducks have clipped wings, and they're the fattest little birds I've ever seen. They're also used to sauntering right up to all of the big gruff students and stealing food right out of our hands, so the lazy little beasts climbed up onto the shoes of anyone passing by to hitch a ride. One chubby little male hopped up onto my foot, and he was heavier than he looked, and stared at me, waiting for me to keep walking to the other duck pond. How he knew it was on my way to my Macroeconomics class, I don't know.
Fish:*Shakes foot*
Duck: QUACK!
It was glaring at me!
A great big goth boy in combat boots and chain covered trench coat, found himself the ride of a particularly bold female mallard, but he shook her off sharply. Not to be deterred, she raced after him, quacking and pecking at his combat boots until he gave in and carried her to the duck pond.
After Thanksgiving, everyone shifts into Christmas mode, especially the children. The day after the ducks ambushed us, I was walking past the duck pond again, nervously this time lest the ducks choose to use me as free transportation (Really, they can't pay fair rates?) when I passed a woman and a child. When the girl said, "Mommy, mommy," I stopped, because the comments that follow that are always sublimely horrible.
Little Girl: Mommy, Mommy, if Santa and his elves make all of those toys, does that make them knock offs?
Fish: Must not giggle inanely...
Little Girl's Mother: Um, well honey, er.
Speaking of children, I babysit for a Saturday morning Alanon meeting, and my two most common charges are a sister and brother pair, hereafter to be known as Pepper and Salt respectively. When I met them, I simply wasn't prepared.
Fish: So what do you want to be when you grow up?
Salt: A ballerina
Pepper: Argh, No one else's little brother wants to be a ballerina!
I looked down, and there on Salt's feet were a pair of pink ballet slippers. Much to his sister's irritation, I told him about Mikhail Baryshnikov, and told him that I thought it would be really cool if he became a ballet dancer. Part of her exasperation arises from the time Salt stole her ballet slippers. She hasn't quite forgiven him.
Now, a year later, a new little girl, who happens to share my relatively rare first name, has joined the group, and she insists on calling me "that girl". I shall call her Little Fish. Little Fish is Salt's age, and Pepper, two years older, can't stand spending morning once a week with a pair of four-year-olds, so she clings to me, presumably the sane one, and draws. The last straw came the first time she met Little Fish.
Fish: So, do you still want to grow up to be a ballerina?
Salt: Yeah, but now I want to be a dragon fighter too.
Little Fish: *In awe* Really?
Pepper: Oh my God!
The school ducks have clipped wings, and they're the fattest little birds I've ever seen. They're also used to sauntering right up to all of the big gruff students and stealing food right out of our hands, so the lazy little beasts climbed up onto the shoes of anyone passing by to hitch a ride. One chubby little male hopped up onto my foot, and he was heavier than he looked, and stared at me, waiting for me to keep walking to the other duck pond. How he knew it was on my way to my Macroeconomics class, I don't know.
Fish:*Shakes foot*
Duck: QUACK!
It was glaring at me!
A great big goth boy in combat boots and chain covered trench coat, found himself the ride of a particularly bold female mallard, but he shook her off sharply. Not to be deterred, she raced after him, quacking and pecking at his combat boots until he gave in and carried her to the duck pond.
After Thanksgiving, everyone shifts into Christmas mode, especially the children. The day after the ducks ambushed us, I was walking past the duck pond again, nervously this time lest the ducks choose to use me as free transportation (Really, they can't pay fair rates?) when I passed a woman and a child. When the girl said, "Mommy, mommy," I stopped, because the comments that follow that are always sublimely horrible.
Little Girl: Mommy, Mommy, if Santa and his elves make all of those toys, does that make them knock offs?
Fish: Must not giggle inanely...
Little Girl's Mother: Um, well honey, er.
Speaking of children, I babysit for a Saturday morning Alanon meeting, and my two most common charges are a sister and brother pair, hereafter to be known as Pepper and Salt respectively. When I met them, I simply wasn't prepared.
Fish: So what do you want to be when you grow up?
Salt: A ballerina
Pepper: Argh, No one else's little brother wants to be a ballerina!
I looked down, and there on Salt's feet were a pair of pink ballet slippers. Much to his sister's irritation, I told him about Mikhail Baryshnikov, and told him that I thought it would be really cool if he became a ballet dancer. Part of her exasperation arises from the time Salt stole her ballet slippers. She hasn't quite forgiven him.
Now, a year later, a new little girl, who happens to share my relatively rare first name, has joined the group, and she insists on calling me "that girl". I shall call her Little Fish. Little Fish is Salt's age, and Pepper, two years older, can't stand spending morning once a week with a pair of four-year-olds, so she clings to me, presumably the sane one, and draws. The last straw came the first time she met Little Fish.
Fish: So, do you still want to grow up to be a ballerina?
Salt: Yeah, but now I want to be a dragon fighter too.
Little Fish: *In awe* Really?
Pepper: Oh my God!
