no.53 - Geese

As soon as we spoke on the phone, I told my wife:
"There had to be fifty, maybe a hundred ducks, all gathered together in one place. They were snow white, with bright orange beaks and mean little eyes. And they were huge! Really enormous! I've never seen ducks that big! Our Sweet Pea has to see these ducks. They were incredible!"
My wife listened patiently and asked, "Are you sure they weren't geese?"
I paused.

Being wrong gave me a slow sinking feeling, like reality was slipping away - or more the point, reality had returned because for a few short hours I was unable to distinguish a duck from a goose.
I had wanted them to be ducks. My daughter loves ducks, not geese. Geese are foul-tempered, like swans, but without any of the grace. Ducks may also lack grace, but they are eminently charming and, as it slowly dawned on me, smaller and more manageable in size. Ducks are fun and funny and some varieties are beautiful. Geese produce disproportionately large turds even for their grotesque size. And they are mean. Ugly mean. They may have lovely white feathers when they can manage to keep them clean, but their faces are nasty:



I could blame myself, but I don't. Because of their nasty, flame orange, serrated beaks and their cold ice-blue eyes, I blame the geese. Because there are there, by the railroad tressle, planning all manner of ill-behaviors, I blame the geese. Because of their devilry in choosing to be little more than big mean ducks, I blame the geese.
But mostly, because it is convenient - I blame the geese.
1 Comments:
"I think big + white + duck equals Goose."
Wahahaha! Awesome. :)
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home