My husband has -- should I say developed? Exhibited? -- the habit of, whenever we drive by a Canada Goose, crying "Goose!" at it. This is not a, "Look! A goose!" sort of cry. No, this is a, "You are Goose!" Therefore, every goose gets a "Goose!"
As in, "GooseGooseGooseGooseGooseGoose!" There were six geese.
Now, y'all remember the Wheaton area? Former wetlands? Lots of water retention ponds?
A few weeks ago I was driving us down Roosevelt, turning right onto Main. Hubble Middle School is right on the corner, with a nice big football field. Geese parked as far as the eye can see. My eyes got big. "Oh, no."
"Wait! Stop the car! This is the moment I was BORN for!"
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My husband made chicken noises for about two years.
I think it must be on the Y chromosome...
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