We played hooky from church yesterday. Both boys were out of town, so that Buzzard and I slept late and got a lazy, slow start to the day. We stayed up late Saturday night watching an incredibly sad turn of events in the World Series and eating salmon from our favorite take out place. We got Emma a happy meal from McDonald's since her three year old palette prefers marginal cheeseburgers to cedar grilled seafood. It was a special occasion, so I even sprang for the toy, which turned out to be a trick or treat bucket that she could decorate with stickers.
Tickled by my own generosity, I hurried home with my offering, anxious to see her excited response.
She was not impressed, and asked me why in the world I had put her supper in a "very scary pail".
I should have known. If a happy meal fails you, you're in for a rough night. It was pretty much downhill from there as we watched those St. Louis Cardinals snub the poor Texas Rangers like a three year old does a scary pail.
Back to a lazy Sunday.
We loaded the infamous pail, now appropriately decked out with a myriad of eyeball and nose stickers, with stale bread and oyster crackers. Then we headed to the Buzzard's old high school campus to visit the duck pond.
We had frightfully strong storms Saturday night. The ground was blanketed with fallen leaves, twigs, and acorns. Even the poor ducks were plastered with leaves and mud!
Lucky for us, they apparently worked up quite an appetite during the storm, and they were eager to make Emmie feel like a welcomed and appreciated guest.
Note to self: Make a bright orange and green quilt. These two colors look fabulous together.
We met this nice dog at the pond. His name was Baxter. He was willing to be petted, which was a good thing, because he scared away all the ducks, leaving himself as the only available source of entertainment.
Don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but rubber ducks have always, always, ALWAYS been one of Emma's most treasured toys. She adores them. It was natural that she wanted to bring a duck to the duck pond. A reasonable and understandable request. Of course, it's all fun and games until someone accidentally knocks the rubber duck off the bridge and into the pond below.
Then you have a world of sadness that not even Baxter can fix.
It takes an Old Buzzard fashioning tools out of fallen branches and laying on his belly over the edge of the bridge coaxing a rubber ducky back to shore to relieve that kind of panic. (Why didn't I get a photo of that??)
Rescue mission succeeded.
A good way to spend a lazy Sunday playing hooky.