Post by hungrycrow on Nov 24, 2017 16:07:33 GMT -5
I thought I'd share a story that my niece, my sister and I made up over Thanksgiving pie.
I started it with a one legged duck, and around the table it went, each person adding something in turn.
Little did I know what a darkly funny streak my grand niece had lurking inside;
There once was a duck that had just one leg.
And when he walked around he had to hop always landing with a loud and embarrassing plop.
Hop plop.
Hop plop.
Hop plop.
When he swam things weren't much better, for all he could do was go around in a circle. This churned up the mud and made it hard to find tasty bugs.
Go away.
Go away.
Go away.
You are churning up the mud.
But, when he flew he could soar high and wide. He could fly like any duck. It was glorious and fun he could fly just like anyone.
Whew fun.
Whee fun.
Woohoo fun.
And then a hunter shot him.
I started it with a one legged duck, and around the table it went, each person adding something in turn.
Little did I know what a darkly funny streak my grand niece had lurking inside;
There once was a duck that had just one leg.
And when he walked around he had to hop always landing with a loud and embarrassing plop.
Hop plop.
Hop plop.
Hop plop.
When he swam things weren't much better, for all he could do was go around in a circle. This churned up the mud and made it hard to find tasty bugs.
Go away.
Go away.
Go away.
You are churning up the mud.
But, when he flew he could soar high and wide. He could fly like any duck. It was glorious and fun he could fly just like anyone.
Whew fun.
Whee fun.
Woohoo fun.
And then a hunter shot him.
