The Ducks of Loose Park
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We went to feed the ducks at the Loose Park with my cousins the other day. We hadn't been to the pond in years because for a while, Canadian Geese had taken over.
Not to make a sweeping generalization, but Canadian geese are horrible people. Bossy. Pushy. It's not enough for them to eat the bread you throw at their feet, their beaks have to be inside the bag in order to be happy.
But my cousins are athletic young lads and lasses, so I figured they'd protect us. They brought a bunch of stale hotdog buns. We brought our goose game faces.
Well, surprise! There are no geese at Loose Park anymore. I don't know what people said to make them go away. They don't seem to be easily offended. I used to look at them point blank and say, "We're here for the ducks," and they'd still mow me down for a crack at the stale bread.
Now, poof, they're gone. Maybe they went back to Canada for the summer. Are they even Canadian? Or are they Canadian like fries are French? If you have an inquiring mind, feel free to research that in your own time. The boys' summer camp ends in 0:20. Otherwise, carry on.
I like to see how boys feed ducks. My cousin Eli and oldest son Johnny made it an athletic event. Eli threw the bread across the pond to see who his best running back was. Johnny threw them to the most athletically promising mallards, then noted, "They're not good receivers, but they're good fumble recoverers."
Richie got involved in their squabbles. Ducks don't attack humans like geese do, but among each other, they will stop at nothing to get a piece of a hotdog bun. I can't help but wonder, after a nice hour at the park, how many wars we've started among the water fowl.
Richie observed this and said, "Oh, you're not going to share? You're going to bite each other? Well guess what? You don't get anymore bread. I'm going to throw it over there." Meanwhile, guess who refused to share his hotdog buns with the other children?
He kept saying, "I want the ducks to have them."
I was like, "Do you see any hotdogs? What the heck do you think the rest of us are going to do with the buns?"
Answer: feed them to the ducks.
J.J. loved the duckies. And the birds. I mean, ducks are birds, but he doesn't know that. So he'd be like, "One for the duckie, one for the birdie."
I think it's interesting that Loose Park is not only the most prestigious neighborhood for humans, but the best address for birds, too. Nobody, but nobody is short on the dough around there. Especially not the ducks.
We went to feed the ducks at the Loose Park with my cousins the other day. We hadn't been to the pond in years because for a while, Canadian Geese had taken over.
Not to make a sweeping generalization, but Canadian geese are horrible people. Bossy. Pushy. It's not enough for them to eat the bread you throw at their feet, their beaks have to be inside the bag in order to be happy.
But my cousins are athletic young lads and lasses, so I figured they'd protect us. They brought a bunch of stale hotdog buns. We brought our goose game faces.
Well, surprise! There are no geese at Loose Park anymore. I don't know what people said to make them go away. They don't seem to be easily offended. I used to look at them point blank and say, "We're here for the ducks," and they'd still mow me down for a crack at the stale bread.
Now, poof, they're gone. Maybe they went back to Canada for the summer. Are they even Canadian? Or are they Canadian like fries are French? If you have an inquiring mind, feel free to research that in your own time. The boys' summer camp ends in 0:20. Otherwise, carry on.
I like to see how boys feed ducks. My cousin Eli and oldest son Johnny made it an athletic event. Eli threw the bread across the pond to see who his best running back was. Johnny threw them to the most athletically promising mallards, then noted, "They're not good receivers, but they're good fumble recoverers."
Richie got involved in their squabbles. Ducks don't attack humans like geese do, but among each other, they will stop at nothing to get a piece of a hotdog bun. I can't help but wonder, after a nice hour at the park, how many wars we've started among the water fowl.
Richie observed this and said, "Oh, you're not going to share? You're going to bite each other? Well guess what? You don't get anymore bread. I'm going to throw it over there." Meanwhile, guess who refused to share his hotdog buns with the other children?
He kept saying, "I want the ducks to have them."
I was like, "Do you see any hotdogs? What the heck do you think the rest of us are going to do with the buns?"
Answer: feed them to the ducks.
J.J. loved the duckies. And the birds. I mean, ducks are birds, but he doesn't know that. So he'd be like, "One for the duckie, one for the birdie."
I think it's interesting that Loose Park is not only the most prestigious neighborhood for humans, but the best address for birds, too. Nobody, but nobody is short on the dough around there. Especially not the ducks.
posted by Midwest Mama at 12:46 PM
1 Comments:
Bridget,
The Canadian geese, realizing the the American economy is no longer in their favor, have in fact decided to head north of the border earlier than usual. The exchange rate being what it is, there was no reason to do otherwise.
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