Monday

     I thought I would tell the story about how we became a duck family. Unfortunately, I can't really do that because none of us really remembers how it got started. It was during the week between when Joey died and his funeral, and there is just so much from that time that is very foggy. Somebody said something about my baby ducks, and it just stuck. And grew. Then I remembered the kiddy song about 5 little ducks going swimming..."5 little ducks went swimming one day, under the bridge and far away, mama duck said quack quack quack, and 4 little ducks came swimming back." (Get it? Because I had 5 little ducks, and now there are 4?)  That's when we started quacking at each other. And so here we are. The Ducks. Quack.
     I am aware that there are some sentence fragments in the above paragraph, which will gain an "F" in a freshman essay. But if Danielle Steel can do it, so can I....at least, in a non-business, informal format.
     On another note: don't you just hate when it seems like a new leaf has been turned over, but then you find out that it's really just the same old leaf just pretending to be a new leaf? And then you feel all disappointed and betrayed and lied too and sort of dumb, but your already up to your neck in new old drama and you kind of want to throw up? Like I always say, you can take the horse out of the ghetto, but you can't make it drink from a non-ghetto trough. (I don't really always say that. I just made it up.)
     May we all live through Monday!
Quack!