One summer, a duck showed up on the pond. It wasn’t like nowadays where you see a duck
or stupid geese at every subdivision and shopping mall in the county. Back then, seeing a duck in Philo was a
once-in-a-lifetime event. I was
fascinated by it, and I wanted to catch it.
I set up a trap that was basically just a 5-gallon bucket
with a slice of bread tied to the handle so that when the duck pulled on the
bread, it bucket would tip and trap the duck underneath. Looking back, I can’t believe how excited I
was, and how confident I was, that I would catch that duck.
I checked the trap every hour but it never was
triggered. I was convinced, though, that
it was just a matter of time. That
night, I wanted to go check it one last time before I went to bed, but mom
wouldn’t let me since I had already taken my bath. I begged and whined, but she wouldn’t give
in. Finally, I asked dad if he would go
check it for me, and he said he would.
Awhile later, he came to my room and told me that there was no duck in
the trap. :(
One day, when the timing is right, I’m gonna ask dad if he
really walked all the way over there and checked my duck trap, or if he just
said he went over there so that I’d stop bugging mom and go to sleep.
