Courtney: Wanna see my ducks?
Paige: What ducks?
Courtney: My pet ducks.
Paige: Courtney, two things come to mind. First, you live in student housing. You can't have pets. Second, ducks aren't pets. So, once again, what ducks?
Courtney: My roommates and I decided to get some ducks. They're really cute and fuzzy. Want me to bring them over?
This is my life. As it turns out, Courtney isn't the only one enthralled by ducklings. Hugo was rather taken with them, too. We let the duckies go for a swim in our guest tub. At first Hugo was satisfied to gaze at them longingly over the side of the tub. . .but he eventually suffered extreme separation anxiety, and he hopped right in with them.
Here's the post tub-time conversation:
Courtney: I need to dry the ducks.
Paige: What do you mean?
Courtney: The ducks are wet. I need to dry them.
Paige: Courtney, they're DUCKS. Perhaps you're unaware of this, but ducks are rather well-known for swimming. I'm fairly confident that they're designed to dry without our intervention.
Courtney: If I don't dry them, they get cold. I know what I'm doing--we do this all the time.
The preceding photo was not staged. This duck really stood there under the blow dryer until it was nice and dry and fluffy again. I couldn't let a couple of freshly clean and fuzzy ducklings go unappreciated, so we called my goddaughter Emma to come play.
The ducks got a spa treatment. Hugo made some charming new friends. Emma received a delightful impromptu play date. All-in-all, it was a good day.
Thanks, Court!
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