Quack That

This country's energy crisis would be solved if someone could harness the excess energy of a small boy.

Combined with the imagined energy level of the fifty-some year old boy in his grandfather it becomes exhausting just to exist in the same household.

This evening--after Josh and I spent a full day in bike rides, baking and waterball fights--we drove down to the river to take the promised ride on the duck boat.

The ride began on land in Newport, Kentucky, headed across the bridge to the landings in Cincinnati where we drove straight into the water with a big splash. Kevin and I had seen the boat launch last weekend so we knew the back seats were the wet ones. We carefully steered Josh to a dry midway point. The ride comes complete with a duck bill shaped duck quack whistle and riders are instructed to quack at pretty much anything that moves.

A Reds game had just gotten over in Cincinnati so there were a lot of people in the area. The Cincinnati police have got to be hating the incessaant duck quack whistling they are bombarded with as they stand midstreet with a lot of impatient drivers coming at them. Pedestrians are also fair game, as are construction guys and anyone else walking, driving or biking near the riverfront.

I expect to read a headline soon about someone being strangled with the cord of their own duck whistle.

The boating part of the ride was more stable than it appeared. Josh enjoyed getting to ride close to the Belle of Cincinnati, his favorite boat on the river. Kevin and I have probaly spent hundreds of hours watching the river from above so it was interesting to see it from this new perspective.

After we got home the boys decided a bike ride was needed. We rode the two mile long bike trail here in town. Josh was the first to spot a deer alongside the trail, an appearance I would have been willing to bet wouldn't happen given the nonstop noisy chatter and the duck quack calls coming from the boy child.

The doe had that "mom look" about her that told me she knows just how it is.

And her kids don't even own a duck quack whistle. There's a special place in the afterlife for the guy who created those whistles. I'll bet it's warm.
The boys have fallen asleep watching a movie. I am thinking of easing their duck quack whistles over their heads and throwing the things as far as I can into the woods.

I hope the doe's fawns don't find them.