Originally, this post was going to be about the made-up game Sissi made, called "Do you know this song? No? Okay." but I can't get anybody to play with me so I'm improvising at 10:06 at night.
Before my mom and I moved to the city we live in now, we lived way out in the country. Like, it took almost half an hour to get to the nearest WalMart and if you had to go grocery shopping, you'd better go to the local grocery store- Dollar General. Once, I literally blinked and missed downtown. It consisted of a post office that was never open and a couple of buildings that burned down before we lived there. Two years ago, they got their first stoplight in front of the highschool and that was straight out shocking.
We lived right next to a small pond that ducks and geese lived at. When we lived there, almost nobody ever went there. After we moved, it became the most awesome place to go to in that town. Because, you know, obviously there are a bunch of awesome places to go to.
Every morning, one single duck would come up to our front door and wait. She would give these quiet little quacks until we gave her bread or crackers or whatever else we had. She quacked while eating. She quacked while walking. She quacked and raced after us until we either got inside the house or got inside the car to leave. I named her Mrs Quackers. It seemed appropriate.
Eventually, she brought one little duck friend along. A few days later, there was a third duck waiting at our front door. The only way to get around them was to give them bread. They weren't mean but they would get right on your feet. Touching wild ducks isn't smart to begin with but we were also scared of accidentally kicking them, stepping on them, or even running them over. We had no choice but to continue to give them food to get them out of our way just to leave, otherwise they stalked us.
Five or six showed up every morning by the time half the school year was over. Whenever they showed up for a week, they got a name. They stayed during the winter, which I never quite understood. I suppose it was because they had a food source though I still don't understand how they were able to deal with all of the cold weather since it actually snowed that year.
Mrs Quackers was the only really loyal one who always came back. The door was open one day and she must have gotten impatient because she hopped right up the steps and into the house. She stayed in the doorway just quacking at us until I told her that I would bring her some bread if she would go back outside without pooping on the floor. She listened without a problem. It happened several times after that.
We moved to the city after that school year was over. Mom and I went back later to see how "our" ducks were doing. Mrs Quackers stayed there for quite some time. She must have left during sometime the next fall or winter because we haven't seen her since, nor have we seen any of the other ducks.
And that, my friends, is the story of how I had a gang of ducks demand that we feed them every day.
The ironic part is that every other duck and every goose I ever see tries to attack me or chase me. I honestly don't know why. I must have killed a bird in a former life or something and Mrs Quackers was just forgiving.