(Dedicated to LaVona Schamber who is currently waging a war against her cancer: http://www.geocities.com/anniesfools/bee.html.)

A Spring Day at The Duck House

It's a beautiful day out, temp is in the upper 50's, lower 60's, which is about what it should be for Lower Michigan in April. (The Upper Peninsula, or "Da U.P.", as the Yoopers call it, should start to have a bad month of skiing.)

MrsDuck just got home with a shiny, new bicycle for Duckling1 (5+ years old). Duckling2 (3+ years old) is pedaling around in clockwise circles on his tricycle, "COW? COW? COW? COW?...". Then he turns left and does counter-clockwise circles, which amuses him even more: "COW! COW! COW! COW!".

I'm following Duckling2 on foot, about 3 feet behind him, because if I were any further behind, I'd have a hard time catching up with him if he should decide to make a break for the gravel road. Fortunately, he is further entertained by driving off the edge of the side of the driveway, the asphalt is 4 inches higher than the surrounding yard.

D2: KWASH! COW?
Duck: Here ya go. (Duck picks up front end of trike and points it back onto the driveway.)
D2: TANK-OO!
D1: Wook, Daddy, I'm widing!
Duck: Very good, Dear! Do you know how to set the....
<CRASH!>
D1: WAAAAAAAAH! (D1 turned too sharply and drove straight into the left side of the Aztek. But because of the vast acreage of black plastic body cladding on the Aztek, no damage has been done...as far as we can tell.)
Duck: Oh, you're okay, nothing got hurt.
D2: COW?
D1: I bonked my head!

Now Duckling1 is wearing a bicycle helmet that is far more advanced than anything Evel Knievel ever wore in his lifetime. No matter, it was an unexpected stop to her forward motion and thus constitutes a national emergency and has caused Homeland Security chief Tom Ridge to escalate the terrorism level to ultraviolet...

D1: WAAAAAAAAH!
D2: COW?
Duck: Let's get back up. Okay now?
D1: Okay, Daddy....WOOK! I'm WIDING again.
D2: COW! <THUNK!> (D2 drives his trike into the back of Duck's legs, surprising Duck, causing him to fall to the pavement and amusing D2.)
Duck: OWWWW!
D2: KWASH???? COW!
D1: WOOK OUT, DADDY! (D1 just drove over Duck's left hand with her bike.)
Duck: AAAAAAHHH!
D2: COW! DADDY FAW DOWN!
D1: Are you okay, Daddy?
Duck: Yeah, I'm okay, I'm just....OWW! F***!!! (D1 just drives over Duck's right hand just as Duck tries to get up.)
D2: COW! DADDY F***ING HURT?
D1: He's saying a bad word again, Daddy!

MrsDuck steps out of the house and out through the garage to see the end of the carnage.

D2: DADDY HURT F***ING HAND! COW!
MrsDuck: (Glaring at Duck) Do I have to wash your mouth out with soap every time I come out and see you play with the kids?

Duck limps into the house, trying to regain feeling in both hands...