or “How Termite Forgot Something Very Important”
After listening to not one, not two, but about six duck calls being blown from daylight until after dark for about six months now by my hunter-in-training 12-year-old son, do you have ANY idea how annoying that can be?
And there we were, having braved the fog, the dark, the dead batteries in the spotlight which would show us the safe way to the duck blind miles from our home out into the alligator-infested marsh, sitting in a duck pond waiting for daylight . . . . . and I heard a sound like a sick duck . . .
“quack quack quack quack quack” coming gutterally from Termite’s throat.
And my reaction is, “You’ve GOT to be KIDDING ME!”
So I asked, “WHERE are your duck calls?”
And a meek little male, pre-adolescent voice whispered “uh, somewhere at home”.
And again, my response is “You’ve GOT to be KIDDING ME!”
I have heard the teal call. I have heard the come back call. I have heard the feeding call. I have heard the hail call. I have heard the greeting call. I have heard the blue and cinnamon call. YOU NAME IT AND I’M SURE I HAVE HEARD IT at least a million times each.
Termite has begged me not to make this post, but you know what? After telling him at least 101 times on Friday to get everything ready for this hunt, there is no way I am going to let this one slide.
Merciless? Yes. Chiding? Sure. Forgivable? Absolutely. Funny? To the max!!!
Since I am doing a mountain of laundry at Dotter’s house right now, I don’t have the capability to upload and edit photos of the hunt, but I will do so soon.
Until then, I’m still laughing at Termite’s quacking!