The Duck Pond

Here in town, there is a local spot that’s been dubbed “the Duck Pond”. It’s named “the Duck Pond” because there are lots of ducks. And also geese. Creative name, no?

The Duck Pond is located at a cemetery, which is appropriate, because I pretty much wanted to die when we went there the other day. We drove by it a few weeks ago and said to each other, “Hey! Let’s take Nellie and let her feed the ducks. Fun times for everyone. Yay!”

It seemed like such a good idea. I was looking forward to seeing my sweet little one experience feeding ducks for the first time! The other day, we grabbed an old loaf of bread, loaded her into the car and drove to the Duck Pond. We approached the parking area and I looked out the window to see at least fifteen geese and ducks waddling toward the car, eager to partake in our blood bread and it was around that time that I remembered that I am terrified of geese. We parked the car, Josh got Nellie out and I opened my car door and stepped out to find this motherfucker waddling toward me, eyes glinting with bloodlust, and it only made matters worse that he had face cancer, or the plague, or some shit:

NO BREAD? THAT'S OKAY. YOUR SOUL WILL DO.

Josh and Nellie had already walked through the sea of fowl to sit at a picnic table near the pond. Meanwhile, I screamed and jumped back into the car and slammed the door. Bravest. Ever. I watched my husband and daughter begin tossing bread to the swarm and felt myself hyperventilating. Why did I think this was a good idea? They could just go ahead and bury me in the cemetery just a few yards away, because these geese and cancer ducks were going to be the end of me right then and there. I saw Josh gesturing at me and I cracked the door open.

“Come on!” he shouted. “You’re missing it.” I pushed the car door open and tentatively slid out of the seat. The duck was still staring at me, inching his way forward with his mouth open. I shuffled away from him and he moved a few inches, still staring at me hungrily. Not wanting to miss the photos from Nellie’s first experience with ducks but also not wanting to run headfirst into the swarm I snapped a few pictures from a distance.

Eventually, with some encouragement from Josh, I made my way over to my husband and daughter. I sat down gingerly and kept alert for any geese or ducks that were trying to ambush me. I managed to take a few more pictures of Nellie feeding them, and blowing bubbles.

 

Despite my terror, Nellie had a good time. She didn’t really want down, and was content sitting in daddy’s lap and blowing bubbles while watching the ducks and geese waddle around and plot my demise.

I know, Nellie. I don’t trust them either.

 

Morning Terror In the Bathroom {Daddy Green Pranks Me AGAIN.}

If you haven’t read about the lovely little surprise my husband left me for Mother’s Day, please take a moment to do so now so you get the full effect of this morning’s antics.

Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Ahem. Yeah. That actually happened to me. ON MOTHER’S DAY.

Anyway, I survived my heart attack and moved on with my life. This morning I dropped Daddy Green off to work, came home with my lovely lady and we had some breakfast, drew on her drawing pad with her brand new crayons that we bought yesterday (off topic, how the hell is my kid old enough for crayons already?), and then mama had to take a shower. I put Nellie in her Exersaucer to watch Baby Einstein while I got ready.

After showering, I decided I was going to give my hair a break from blow-drying today and see if my cut worked with a wavy style. I turned around to open my bathroom closet to retrieve my hair gel and came face to face with this asshole:

GOOD MORNING. I'VE COME FOR YOUR SOUL.

Now, it took me a moment of shock for my brain to register what I was staring at and when it finally did, I screamed so loud that I am genuinely surprised my upstairs neighbor did not call the police, thinking that I was being brutally murdered. I flapped my hands uselessly and then promptly facepalmed myself.

My husband had gotten me. AGAIN. SONOFABITCH.

It’s on, Daddy Green. I don’t know how I’m going to get you back, because you are nearly impossible to scare but by god… I WILL get you back.

This. Means. War.