Don't Try This At Home

I'm Quacking Up

By Bob on July 1, 2009 6:00 AM

Time: 1:30 a.m.

Place: Master Bedroom

Participants: Bob & Charlotte

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

I wake up on about the fourth "quack".  Thinking the duck will go away, I roll over to face Charlotte who is clearly fast asleep.

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

Since the duck is not getting my telepathic message to get the flock out of the pool, I roll back over.  I am now hoping my brave (yet blind) watchdog Spike will hear the duck and at least bark.

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

No bark.  Maybe Spike doesn't speak duck.

 

---

I don't know what a man in a Kinky Friedman for Governor T-shirt and a pair

 of martini-print boxers can actually accomplish at 1:30 a.m.

---

 

 

 

Then I remind myself, "Spike probably can't see him." 

 

"WHAT DOES IT MATTER?" my mind races.  "It's freakin' 1:30 in the morning and IT'S DARK.  I CAN'T SEE HIM EITHER."

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

OK, this is getting old.  I can't sleep with a duck singing the "Song of the South" in my backyard.  it's time for action.  

 

Charlotte wakes up.  Now I know it's time for action.

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

She rolls out of bed to get some water.  I'm still undecided on what a man in a "Kinky Friedman for Governor" T-Shirt and a pair of boxers can actually accomplish at 1:30 a.m.

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

---

Tail feathers that almost scream,

"You'll never take me alive, copper!" 

---

 

Charlotte's back in bed.  Neither of us can sleep, so that means I get up. 

 

I am after all, the man of the house, lord of the manner, defender of the realm...the guy who finally remembers where he put the BB gun.

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

Now it's personal. 

 

Safety OFF.  BB gun COCKED. 

 

I crack open the door the way I've seen them do it on Law & Order.  I make out the silhouette of a large Mallard in the pool.  He has his back to me.  Tail feathers that almost scream, "You'll never take me alive, copper!"

 

"Quack, quack, quack, quack"

 

POP!  POP!  POP!

 

Water splashes.  Wings flap loudly.  He launches out of the pool like a F16 off an aircraft carrier.  Just to taunt me, he gives a "Quack, quack, quack, quack," as he clears the backyard fence.

 

I return to bed, knowing I was successful in defending my castle.  I finally doze off with dreams of duck victory dancing in my head.  We will meet again, the duck and I. 

 

Next time I'll be wearing my camo T-shirt. 

 

No offense, Kinky.

 

Bob's note: No animals were harmed in the writing of this post.  Honest.

 

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