We thought it would be fun to take Miss P. to go feed the ducks in the Boston Common today. It’s cold, but nothing a big pink parka and purple hat can’t handle. After searching the nether regions of our refrigerator to find some stale bread we were all in the car on the way to the park listening to the
Wheels on The Bus
for the trillionth time. Mid way through a “
move on back
” I looked down at the bread and realized it had a blue hue to it. Upon further inspection I saw that it was covered in blue mold. (Yes, this speaks volumes for my lack of refrigeration organization.)
Me: “Is it okay to feed ducks moldy bread?”
Hubby: “I don’t know, Google it.”
Commence the Google search.
Me: “AH! You aren’t supposed to feed ducks bread at all! It can lead to malnutrition, disease, and behavior problems.” I will not be responsible for a bad duck. “It says we should feed them lettuce instead.”
Hubby has a field day with this and rambles on about even the Google search engine turning “hippy dippy.”
Commence the purchase of an organic head of lettuce.
Back in the car…
Hubby: “Wait. It’s Winter. Don’t birds fly south?”
Commence the drive around the pond in search of a duck that decided not to join his friends. (Maybe he was fed moldy bread and branded with bad behavior.) Spotted.
Outside the car…
Hubby: “Wanna feed the ducks sweetheart!?”
Miss P: “Duck! Yessh!”
Me: “What do ducks say, P?”
Miss P: “Woof! Moooo!”
Hubby: “Close enough! Duuuucks!”
Commence the duck chant between Hubby and Miss P. for the next five blocks: “Ducks! Ducks! Ducks!” where we were greeted with the following sign:
Duck Tales. Part Two. Epic Fail.
More Misadventures? Get ’em here: