The Duck is Dead...

... and other short stories from our house.

Not really.  But the duck is dead.  I threw him in the last trash bag I took out to the dumpster, since tomorrow is garbage collection day.  "What duck?" you're asking.  Well, when my aunt was down here for David's birthday party a week and a half ago, she came in the house and asked me for a "tub" or large container to put water in.  Skeptically, I told her there was a dish tub (our camping one) on the counter that she could use.  A little while later, Jenny kept sneaking into the kitchen to "see if the duck had grown".  It didn't grow that day.  And it didn't grow the next day.  (The package said it might take up to 96 hours to grow - and it was supposed to grow to be the same size as whatever tub you put it in.  Uhhuh.)  Finally, on day 3 (as I was getting ready to pitch it), I started to see some growth.  And by day 7 (yes, I actually left it in the water for seven whole days), it had maybe tripled in size.  I took it out of the tub and laid it on a towel to dry.  Three days later, the duck was still slimy and wet, and Jenny keeps wanting to play with it.  So while she was "resting" (read: playing and singing and making lots of noise in the pack'n'play), I euthanized the duck. 

Q4U: What have you put out of its misery lately without your kids' knowledge?