iLOL’d: The Itteh Bitteh Duckeh Committeh.

May 9, 2009

(Okay, here’s the scoop: I’m busy.  Really busy.  I’m having a hard time finding stuff to blog about every day, much less the time to blog about it.  So I’m posting less frequently.  Blog is not dead tho.

Now enjoy this tale of teh duckehz.)

Today my family and I went shopping for a car.

One would think that this would be a reasonably simple matter.  You get into town, browse around, find a car that fits all your qualifications, buy it, you’re done.  Since the economy’s in the dumpers, it shouldn’t be too hard to find the car you want…

…except that everyone is now shopping in your price range.

Long story short, we did not find a car.  We did find a lot of places to exclude in future car searches.

But let me tell you about the ducks.

We first saw the sign when pulling out of a car lot.  Well, not just a sign – it was a shapely young woman holding up a sign that read “Green House – OPEN”.  I, being an utterly ignorant lout, had no idea that such a sign could have grand cosmic significance, but my mother was good enough to enlighten me.  It would seem that the “Green House” in question is a nursery that she remembers fondly from her younger days, and so she insisted that we drive down and investigate.

It is a charming place, really.  All of the business is done outdoors, in a secluded little area with some trees and a pond and… birds.  Oh, so many birds.  On the way in, we spotted a large flock of chickens (sitting in a tree, as chickens are largely fond of trees), a few geese, and several goslings.

Deeper in, in the area where the plants were sold, was the Itteh Bitteh Duckeh Committeh.

This oh-so-innocent-seeming flock of ducklings gave us no problems at first.  They’re shy little birdies, waddling away in cute little herds whenever someone tries to get close.  Not antisocial, but not especially human-loving.

Unless you have little beads in your sandals.

At one point in our shopping trip the duckehs spotted those beads.  I can only imagine what went on in their minds at this point (Yay!  Food!); they hauled their collective duckie derrieres in my direction and wasted no time assaulting my shoes for the imaginary food they had spotted.

Now, I’m not a boastful sort of individual – I try to avoid it if I can – but I can’t help but wonder if this occurence is indicating something to me.  Perhaps I’m missing my true calling; perhaps I am destined to travel into the world and become a Duck Whisperer, bringing joy (and imaginary fudz) to duckehz everywhere.  Perhaps fame and fortune will follow me wherever I go as I forge new communication between men and ducks.

Or maybe I’d better leave the sandals at home next time.

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