ti have another story for you about oppossums. my dad has a twin brother who owns a farm, kindof. they used to have cows and chickens. they don't anymore. but they do have oppossums. oppossums who eat the cat food on their deck. my uncle has a shotgun for such occasions. oppossum occasions. at dinner recently, he told a story about one of these occasions. he described as a "shotgun emergency c-section". we were eating pizza.
we had a mama duck living in one of our azalea bushes. they're white azaleas. i disagree with my mom on the decision of white azaleas. the duck has a nest. every afternoon when he got home from work, my dad fed her bread. before he got home from work, he would e-mail my mom at lunch to ask about the duck. she had seven eggs in her nest. six of them hatched. my dad says he wishes he would've spray-painted the mama duck before the eggs hatched. that way we'd know which duck was ours.
both of my parents are partially deaf. i think they are more deaf than they are less deaf. since neither of them can hear things, they're dependent on me to isolate the location of noises. last weekend this meant that we played a game. my mom drove the car back and forth in front of the house, stomping on the brakes irratically, while my dad and i manically followed it. i'm calling the game "find the squeak".
it's not a real game.
No comments:
Post a Comment