Thursday, March 02, 2006

Bold Birdies

I had a ton of errands to do today, and a little spare time in which to do them, as I'm awaiting a client's return from vacation. After the kiddo returned from his dad's house this morning, I scooped him up and we headed out to Accomplish Things. Luckily the kiddo is pretty fun to hang out with on these excursions; I always enjoy chatting with him about video games as we shop for groceries or whatnot. Of course, he's too big to sit in the seat of the shopping cart, and I'm not willing to drag him along on foot, so I usually let him ride in the larger area of the cart and play his Game Boy. This means I have to carefully arrange items around his legs and feet. Buying eggs is a little harrowing.

Anyway, we did everything we'd set out to do, and on the way home the kiddo fell asleep in the car. Hmm. I wanted to let him sleep for a few extra minutes, so instead of turning into our driveway, I went a few yards farther with the intention of circling the parking lot at the lake. A car ahead of me seemed to be having some difficulty passing a bunch of pigeons and ducks that were pecking at bread in the lot. Why weren't they closer to the water? Because, as it turned out, a couple of kids were intentionally throwing bread into the parking lot. I figured the car ahead of me would clear the way, but as soon as that car rounded the corner the birds reappeared and resumed their feast. Rolling down my window, I asked the kids if they could shoo the birds away from my car; they looked at me silently.

Okay. Ever so slowly, I began to inch forward, hoping I wouldn't hear a crunch and be forever known to the lake regulars as the heartless lady who drove over a duck. I swear, it must have taken me about fifteen minutes to go two yards. I was starting to feel like George Costanza: "We got no deal with the squirrels!" I didn't think we had a deal with the ducks; nevertheless, I resigned myself to continuing at a snail's pace. A homeless man watched me from his seat at a picnic table. "Looks like I got myself into a pickle!" I called out. He laughed and kept an eye out for birds, letting me know when my path was clear. I thanked him with a smile and a merry thumbs-up and arrived home before the milk turned.

Next time I'll get out of the car and flap my arms. Might be quicker that way.