Saturday, July 16, 2011

Duck Moment

A sitting duck.

The semester before Nathan and I got married, we both lived just south of BYU campus. We would often walk home together, as engaged couples are apt to do, and our route home often took us on the path past the fabled duck pond (formally known as the botany pond, but hello, there are ducks there. Ducks=duck pond).

Sometimes, there would be a cute little duck curled up on the path, sleeping in his feather bed. So serene, so vulnerable, so ... shaped like a football. It would just be so perfect to ... punt the duck across the pond.

Those little orange legs remind me of something ...

Cruel, I know. Senseless violence, you say. Yes, yes, of course it is. But is is so opportune. So just right. Oh, it would feel so good to just skip a little as I break free of Nathan's hand, gather a bit of speed, pull my right leg back as my left leg plants firmly to the left of the duck--just like a penalty kick--then the top of my right foot connects perfectly with the underbelly of the duck, sending it flying down the path, a projectile of shock and feathers. Yes, that would be just right.

It's not that I want to hurt the duck, not at all. And I never have followed through with the impulse. This is the nature of the "Duck Moment." Basically, whenever a wonderful opportunity for mischievous violence presents itself, that's a Duck Moment.

Little kid running aimlessly by your park bench? If you just extended your leg, just a little bit, at just the right time ... ? Duck Moment.

Husband eating a bowl of popcorn ... it reminds you of confetti. If you just popped the bottom of the bowl up just so ... Duck Moment.

Child leaning over the edge of a fountain,straining to get his pudgy hand under the stream? If you just bumped him a little with your hip, maybe just shoved him ... ? Duck Moment.

Wife lying on the edge of the couch during a nice cuddle, on the very edge?  If you just gave a little push ... ? Duck Moment.

You've got a soft, rotten peach, excavated from the dark recesses of the drawer at the bottom of your fridge. A cocky-looking jogger runs just beneath your balcony ... Duck Moment.

You know you've experienced a Duck Moment. If not, you're about to start because I made you think of it.


  1. What is it called when you actually follow through on your impulse? A Goose Moment? There was an annoying little turkey splashing in Alicia and I's faces at the pool. He kept running in between us--we were clearly sitting under the slide to be out of the way of all the other folks--back and forth, back and forth. I had a Duck Moment, but I followed through. I stuck my leg out under the water, and SAMCK. He bit it. Face first in to the water.
    Ha. I showed HIM!

  2. Loved this post! So glad to know I'm not the only one with "duck moment" impulses!

  3. My duck moments involve dishes. The hideous brown ones I didn't pick out, but my man did.
    "Whoops! I slipped, darn rubber gloves--no grip."
    Not that that's ever happened... right?
    "We must have lent that bowl with the cookies I made?"


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