Of ducks and frogs

There is a game we used to play at summer camp. For some reason we counsellors really enjoyed it, while it annoyed the campers.  Perhaps that’s why we liked it so much.  It goes like this:

Hey, Warren, wanna buy a duck? (asks Tash)

A what?

A duck.

Does it quack?

Of course it quacks, it’s a duck!

Hey, Carly, wanna buy a duck? (asks Warren)

A what?

A what? (Warren to Tash)

A duck! (Tash to Warren)

A duck! (Warren to Carly)

Oh.  Does it quack?

Let me check. Does it quack? (Warren to Tash)

Of course it quacks, it’s a duck! (Tash to Warren)

Of course it quacks, it’s a duck.  (Warren to Carly)

Hey Sarah, wanna buy a duck? (Carly to Sarah)

A what? (Sarah to Carly)

A what? (Carly to Warren)

A what? (Warren to Tash)

A duck (Tash to Warren)

A duck (Warren to Carly)

A duck (Carly to Sarah)

Does it quack? (Sarah to Carly)

And so on and so on, incorporating all the people in the room.  It’s chaotic, it’s noisy, it’s annoying as snot and we loved it because the kids tired of it before we did.

We’re reliving The Duck Game here in the House of Nuts on an almost daily basis.  Someone will say something at the supper table, which he will then bring to a brother’s attention. “Three, hey Three!  Did you hear that?  I just said, ‘Pass the mustard.’  Get it?”  At which point two or three brothers will join in with chortles, repetition and many interpretations of what was said, how it was said, how they would have said it, all admiring their great wit.

The smallest of the small is not beyond playing The Duck Game. The other day, I called a good bye to the boys where they were playing downstairs.  As Four came springing up the stairs (he’s a frog in boy’s clothing), I said it was the best part of my day.  “The best part of my daaay... with youuuuu!” he sang, leaping into my arms and clinging like a tree frog.

He was followed by Five, who launched himself against me (the headbutt is his preferred expression of affection) and then he said  “Good night, Tante Tess!” and giggled.  “Four,” he chortled, “I said good night to Tante Tess. Did you hear me?  I said, “ I said good night”.  Isn’t that silly, Four?”  To which Four agreed it was very silly, and all the way back down the stairs they recounted the incident to each other with great delight.

My sister and I looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Wanna buy a duck?”