Yesterday, on my Sunday bike ride, I pedaled past a mama duck and her babies waddling near a canal.
The image you just conjured in your head from that sentence is wrong. This was an entirely different scene than the typical warm fuzzies we picture when we think of mama ducks and their obedient babies.
These babies weren’t babies. They were probably one of families of ducklings that had hatched back in Spring, around Easter (see picture above). I’d admired those little yellow balls of fluff trailing behind their proud mama. These ducks had grown into what I’d estimate as teenage duck size. And wouldn’t ya know it, they acted just like human teenagers.
They fell out of line and refused to follow mama like good little ducklings. I kid you not, I saw this mama duck turn her head back at her wayward teenage ducks and angrily quack them back into line. She was miffed! She got up in their faces. The teenagers eventually followed her, but they were slow, sullen, and still a bit wayward.
I laughed so hard.
Because teenagers. Because ducks.