Rubber Nuisance

Monday’s are always difficult. The weekends are too short and weeks too long. This particular Monday was no exception. I started by riding the struggle bus. But as the day progressed, all it’s tires became flat and was being pulled by a team of mules. At top speed, they rounded a curve causing the back doors to pop open. The force of the jolt knocked me from my seat. I slid through the open doors and was hanging on to the bumper for dear life. It was that kind of Monday.

All I wanted to do was get home, take a shower so this day could melt away. I got home, went out back to feed the dogs and almost fell flat on my face. Out of nowhere, I tripped on a rubber duck. One of the small ones. It was filthy. This little bastard had on a top hat and bow tie. I always knew bow ties were bad, hence the “Bow Tie Killer.” I could have broken my neck on this New Years Eve celebrating bow tie wearing plastic duck. My first instinct was to send it sailing across the yard. But then I knew I would just have to pick up the pieces when I shredded it with the lawnmower. Instead, I laid it on the patio table. Stupid duck.

The alarm clock went off Tuesday morning much too early. I stumbled into the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. Before I could make it, I kicked the dogs water bowl. Now my house shoes were soaked as was the hem of my pj’s and laying on top of my foot was a black blob. I screamed, kicking the thing through the air into the kitchen sink. Once my heart stopped racing, I looked at the villain. It was a Valentine duck. It had a heart painted on its back. Well, I could see half a heart peeking out from under the dirt. The duck itself was kinda pink.

Hey, that was a good kick. I couldn’t do that again if I tried.

Each day I found a duck in different places throughout the house. Thanks be to God that they had stopped attacking me. There was a sailor duck in one of the dog beds. My husband found a cowboy duck in his office. There was a clown duck in my bathroom. I almost stepped on this one. Luckily for me, I thought it was dog poop and stepped over it. Dirty duck!

When our daughter was a baby, we bought her rubber ducks. Not like these. And not this many. She might have had 3 at the most her entire childhood.

I went out side to fill up the dog food jug; it was then I found an army of rubber ducks. A devil, (that should have been the one I tripped over.) A ballerina, a police duck, a pilot; I have never seen so many rubber ducks in one place, other than a toy store. And dirty. Shew! It looked like the dogs had been digging under the house. Maybe after a mole. No dead critters here, instead I had a pile of old dirty rubber ducks.

I know my child never played with these.

My husband and I bought this house in 1977. Could it be possible these belonged to another little boy or girl? I have no doubt that my dogs had great fun digging them up.

If someone was recording me, I’d be a social media star about right now. Is this why people get those dog cameras? It’s a pretense that they are watch their pets but in reality they catch their spouses are in strange situations? They can laugh when a rubber duck goes flying across the kitchen? Or when you ballet dance across the deck to keep from falling?

Dirty ducks!