There's not much my kids agree on. I am often scrambling in the mornings to make three different breakfasts and three different lunches in an attempt to get something nutritious into each of them. I am pretty sure Scrappy stopped liking waffles just to be difficult. And the battle over who controls the car radio means we don't ever really listen to music.
There are a few things they CAN all agree on though, including their love of cereal as an after school snack, video games, superheroes and the drive-in. Needless to say, everyone was on board for going to see the new "Spiderman" movie during the opening weekend of the Unadilla Drive-In. As for me, I realized a while ago that my days of watching Godard films at the Film Forum are long gone and I have learned to appreciate men in spandex costumes performing acts of heroism.
We decided to make it a full fledged Americana weekend with baseball practice on Friday night followed by pizza at a local honky tonk in addition to the Saturday night drive-in. It was actually just a pizzeria, but honky tonk sounds much more Americana.
Since Friday was a warm day and the stench of water fowl in the bathtub had become unbearable, the Husband decided to introduce the ducklings to the pond. He set up the chicken tractor down by the pond with the prerequisite blue tarp he seems to incorporate into every barnyard contraption he builds. He is sort of the Robert Moses of animal tenements.
The ducks took to water like, well, ducks. It was so cute to watch them maneuver through the pond like synchronized swimmers. It was even cuter to watch them follow the Husband around the yard like he was their Mama. A word of advice gentlemen, forget walking around with babies or puppies to gain amorous attention. There is nothing more attractive than a man leading a parade of fuzzy little ducklings.
Pizza took a little longer than anticipated Friday night and the Husband was anxious to get home to check on his flock. Luckily we left our Great Pyrenes outside to babysit. Upon meeting the ducklings for the first time, the 100lb Pepper rolled over in submission to let the ducklings climb all over him, so we were confident that he would take his job as duckling protector very seriously.
The Husband instructed the boys to go behind the chicken tractor where the knelt in silence with their flashlights unwaveringly aimed at the unfolding drama. As I watched the boys through the glow of our spotlights it reminded me of the drive-in: the sound of peepers chirping and the swaths of light dancing around in the night sky. But this was better. We all know Spiderman is not going to die. Sure, he is going to get pretty beaten up, but in the end he will defeat the villain and save the city. There was no such guarantee at this performance. This was a real nail biter and best of all, Dad was the hero; the one who had to protect the innocent. He was the one we were routing for as the ducklings came closer to him and closer to the safety of their house. Our hearts raced with the knowledge that if the ducklings didn't go in, they may fall prey to one of the countless carnivores that hunt at night.
It took about a half hour before the ducklings were finally locked safely away for the night. We all returned to the house for an episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" satisfied that this thriller had a happy ending thanks to the duckling whisperer.
The weather didn't cooperate with our plans for the real drive-in the following night and we ended up going to the movie theater to see "Spiderman." The boys seemed to enjoy it, but my guess is that ten or twenty years from now, the memory of how their Dad saved the ducks on a warm May night will be a lot more vivid than how Spiderman saved New York City.
Wonderful popcorn memory!
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