There's a great park at the end of our street with a big lake right in the middle. On this lake live many, many ducks. All spring, we told the kids we'd be seeing baby ducks "any day now." Here's what happened Sunday as we strolled along the banks.
Me: What a beautiful day. The sun is -- heeeey. What are those little things swimming behind that female mallard? They're not -- THEY ARE!
Here's where my mid-baritone shrills unbidden to a shrieking, high tenor.
Me: OHMIGOSH! JANE! HENRY! DUCKIES! LOOK! DUCKIES!
I run toward the water.
Me: BABY DUCKIES! LOOK AT THE LITTLE, BROWN AND YELLOW SPOTS! DUCKIES! OOOOOHHH! THAT ONE IS CLIMBING OUT OF THE WATER! LOOK AT THE FEET! DUCKY FEET! HOW MANY ARE THERE? ONETWOTHREEFOURFIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE! NINE DUCKIES! SO FLUFFY!
Henry: (to Jane) Daddy REALLY likes baby duckies, Jane.