Ron and I were having breakfast at Melrose a few days ago and the kids a the charter school across the street were playing Duck Duck Goose:
Ron: What’s Duck Duck Goose?
Andy: A bunch of kids get in a circle and one who is It has to walk around tagging each on the head as a ‘duck.’ When the kid tags someone as a ‘goose’ they have to chase It around the circle if they get to the seat before the tagged kid does then they become the new It.
Ron: What’s the prize?
Andy: There’s no prize.
Ron: Could it be Duck Duck Chicken?
Andy: No.
I did tell you that Ron counts chickens to go to sleep, right? I still think he’s pulling my leg. I just picture a line of chickens running and flapping like mad trying to clear a white picket fence.
Like I’ve said before: sometimes he’s the Zsa Zsa, sometimes it is me.
The other day we’re walking back from the gym and this old man passes us and calls out Filipino! Like Ron is supposed to have some sort of Pavlovian auto-response. He simply called out Darna!
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