Conversations With A Three Year Old, Part 2Serge Bielanko
Me: Dad, 40 years old/ skimmer cap.
Violet: 3 years old/ curls galore.
Henry: 1 year old/ walks so cool, like a Weeble.
Scene: A nice park, a nice day.
Songbirds swoop and spin and fly around doing whatever.
Lovers sit on benches. Ducks chill under shade trees.
Me and the kids appear out of the Honda with a sleeve of generic Saltines.
(Camera is from a duck’s eye view/ watching out over the park/ scanning the people/ zooms in on dad and two little kids…us)
Me: Hey Violet, so do you wanna feed the ducks or go over and feed the trout from the bridge?
Violet: NO! They’re not ducks! They’re bulls!
Me: Bulls? Wha? They’re ducks. Right there, look. That’s a mallard duck, no doubt about it. A mallard.
Violet: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THEY’RE BULLS! THEY’RE NOT DUCKS THEY’RE BULLS!
Me: Ok, alright, they’re bulls, they’re bulls! Jeeeeez-oh-man.
Violet: Can I have cracker pweeze?
Me: Okay, sure. Here you are, break it up in crumbs, remember? Don’t waste whole crackers on single ducks, okay?
(I hand her a cracker)
Violet: NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (She grabs the cracker and tries to jam it back in the crinkly sleeve)
Me: What? WHAT??!! What are you doing crazy kid?!
(She wedges the cracker back in there and then puts her arms down as if that last thing never even happened and then she raises her hand again .9 milliseconds later and takes out the exact same cracker. She wanted to do it herself.)
Violet: I got the cracker.
Me: Ummmm, okay. Okay, good work!
(Violet wanders over to an interested
duck bull and hurls an entire cracker at it.
Me: (soft sigh of defeat)
Me: Henry, do you wanna feed the ducks, little buddy?! (I guide him toward a couple ducks eyeballing my kid like park pervs)
Henry: (pointing) DUCK!
Me: Here, man. Here’s a little cracker.
Henry: (waddles toward ducks. Halfway there: he eats the cracker)
Violet: Daddy, can have cracker pweeze?
Me: Yeah, here. Remember, break it up in crumbs this time.
(She fishes a cracker out of the sleeve and instantly Frisbees it at a duck/bull. Five or six other crackers fall out of the pack and on the ground when she does this and they are gobbled up by piranha ducks.)
Me: Henry, do you want to…..HENRY! NO! TAKE THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH! Oh son, no! We don’t eat that! That’s poo-poo, buddy! That’s duck poop, my man. YUCK!
Violet: Daddy, can I cracker pweeze? (whole sleeve pf generic saltines gets tugged out of my hand by accident and ducks swarm.)
(At the sound of the father’s long defeated sigh the camera zooms backwards away from the man and the kids and the ducks, backing fast over the green grass before going reverse airborne back out over the park and the town, further and further in reverse, then fade to black)
You can also find Serge on his personal blog, Thunder Pie.
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