I was tearing down a road to Boston – meaning obeying the speed limit in the slow lane – at rush hour, amidst heavy traffic when all of a sudden the row of ducks mom at front, babies in the middle, dad at the rear…or vice versa for mom and dad (I’m not a duck expert, so lay off.)
Every single driver, who wouldn’t even on their most giving day slow for a human, let alone stop, SCREECHED on their brakes. I want in on that duck action. They’re as efficient as a military platoon.
Platoon Sgt: Everyone lne up, eyes forward, look cute and waddle and waddle and waddle.
Platoon Sgt starts singing:
I’m a tiny duck and I don’t care
Ducklings: I’m a tiny duck and I don’t care
Platoon Sgt: Got a bunch of feathers instead of hair
Ducklings: Got a bunch of feathers instead of hair
Platoon Sgt: They won’t hit us for then they’ll find
Ducklings: They won’t hit us for then they’ll find
Platoon Sgt: Our adorable splaterred bodies won't leave their mind
Ducklings: Our adorable splattered bodies won't leave their mind
Platoon Sgt: And waddle and waddle and waddle….
(Okay, so maybe I thought it over too much. Iwas bored, all right? Jeesh)
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