Every once in a while I remember that social constructs demand a person of my age to act both mature and responsible while navigating the various twists and turns of life. Now, while I truly believe this to be mostly nonsense and tomfoolery, I can never escape the nagging doubt that if everybody were to just act how they wanted to all the time – and not how society expected them to – the world would quickly fall into chaos. (See: The government)
So, it was with this in mind that I decided to do something society would be proud of and check up on my outdoor air conditioning unit, which had just spent the long winter buried in the unforgiving snow. "Best to scope things out now and make sure everything is in working order," I maturely said to myself, "before the hot weather sets in. After all, it is the responsible thing to do."
Now, I’ll fully admit that the extent of my "check-up" was always going to be fairly limited, mainly because my best answer to the question, "How does an A/C unit work, anyway?" has always been, "I dunno, magic?" In fact, the entire operation was going to be completely binary: Either the A/C unit would still be sitting there, in which case I’d consider the check-up to be a rousing success, or it would have disappeared completely, which would not only have been baffling, but also quite amusing. I mean, who’d steal an A/C unit over the course of the winter, anyway?
Armed with a concrete plan of action, I stepped out the back door with a look of determination showing on my mature and responsible face. In fact, I’m pretty sure I even had my sleeves rolled up, just so the A/C unit – should it still be there – would know right off the bat that I meant business. Happily enough, I found my quarry squatting contentedly where I’d left it months before, apparently no worse for wear. A smug look of accomplishment spread across my mature and responsible face. "Well, mark that one off the ol’ TODO list! One up, one down! Heck, maybe I should go and check to make sure I still have an attic!"
It was then that a monster usually associated with the worst of nightmares exploded from out of nowhere and charged me, its razor sharp fangs glinting as it prepared to tear the flesh from my bones. As my eyes widened and my jaw dropped, I had but one thought: "Oh s–"
Wait! Wait! Hold it! Upon re-reading the last paragraph, I realize that I’m embellishing a bit here, purely for dramatic effect. However, since the bond between a writer and a reader is a sacred thing, I feel that I have no option but to be completely honest in my recollections. So, let me try that again:
It was at this point that a startled duck that had built its nest several feet from the A/C unit exploded into flight from out of the weeds. Not expecting anything of the sort, I was taken a bit off-guard, judging by both how high I jumped and screamed. Over the next several moments my life flashed before my eyes, all while various colorful words tumbled out of my mouth at an extraordinary rate. However, once my heart had returned to beating at a semi-normal rate, I collected myself enough to take a peek at the nest. Sure enough, in contained seven or eight eggs, and I was instantly overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt. Hoping that I hadn’t driven the mother away forever, I scurried back inside, wondering what I’d do should she never return. This led me to briefly want to write a heartfelt country music song in the vein of Cats in the Cradle, but I quickly brushed the notion aside. This was serious!! Those eggs might soon be depending on me!!!
I didn’t dare go anywhere near the nest for the rest of the day, and I instead spent my time alternating between stressing out and researching how to be a surrogate duck parent online. The next morning, hopeful that I hadn’t created a broken home, I quietly slid the patio door open and crept back outside, making sure to keep my distance while also making no noise whatsoever. I was like a ghost, a shadow in the night, my presence unknown to the entire world!!!!
Slipping through the early morning stillness, my every move discrete and calculating, I was soon able to determine that the mother had thankfully returned! However, just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, she somehow detected me and exploded from the nest yet again!! With my ears burning red, I fled back inside, my mind racing. The mother obviously had senses that far exceeded that of a normal duck! I was going to need a lot of camouflage, and that meant finding an Army surplus store, fast!!
It was then that I was reminded of the popular saying, “Work smarter, not harder.” Realizing that I was dealing with a duck of superior intellect, I came to the conclusion that trying to directly monitor the situation at ground level – regardless of how much camouflage or subterfuge I used – was never going to work. So, I began to search for an alternate solution, and soon I hit upon it.
Not long after, I was upstairs looking out the window located just behind the desk where I worked. Sure enough, if I leaned out far enough, my waist on the sill and my hands holding tightly onto the frame, I could just barely make out the nest below. Success! I now had an easy way to observe the situation as it unfolded, all while not disrupting the delicate balance of nature! (Providing, of course, that I didn't fall out of the stupid window.) Plus, I now had something to distract me while I worked, which is something that can never be understated!
This all happened about a day or so ago, and ever since then I’ve been keeping tabs on the situation from my bird’s eye view. Happily, I can report that so far the eggs have seemed safe and sound. However, I’ve yet to see the mother again, which is mildly concerning. Still, I’m hopeful that she’s just been off doing whatever it is that mother ducks do, and I’ll not be forced to take over the parenting duties. Heck, maybe she even found that Army surplus store and has been hiding there all along!
