There is a pond by our house. It contains ducks. Every once in a blue moon we go and feed the ducks in the pond. The last time we went it was the middle of winter. The ducks hadn’t been fed in awhile so when our van pulled up we were completely surrounded by big and small ducks. My sister had a bad experience with geese when we were little, so I was not about to get out of the car with three kids to defend, so we chucked the bread out the window and made a break for it, attempting to not run over any ducks in the process.
Today we decided to try again. It’s again the middle of winter, but it’s been a sunny warm winter so I thought we were probably good. And Mr. Max hasn’t fed the ducks in his memory so I knew he’d love it. We pull up, and are again surrounded. But this time I took courage. “ I am bigger than the ducks”, I thought. “I don’t want my children to be terrified of ducks because their mom is.” So I got out of the car and shooed the ducks away while I got Max and the chica out. Max was fascinated, Chica was nervous – possibly remembering my terror last time.
We fed the ducks. More ducks came, big geese came. Soon we were standing on the benches trying to throw bread as far out as we could in the hope that the ducks would back off slightly. Then this big one, with the feather stuck to his beak nibbled Max’s fingers. Look at the betrayal in his eyes.
Then I made a discovery. You can herd ducks, at least the small ones – the big ones are a little stubborn – and a little scary. I practiced herding them back into the water so that we could feed them safely from land. The kids soon caught on, although I did have to stop Max from kicking the big geese- he was getting a little over zealous. And we avoided the one that was “sleeping”. But we did it and successfully fed the ducks. The kids didn’t even want to leave. I call it a win.
And look at these cool duck feet.
Love these two so much that it hurts sometimes.