We like to go feed the ducks. Jude gets a kick out of it, and it's a nice family outing, an hour or two down by the lake. Unfortunately with the ducks also come the geese. And Canadian Geese are mean. Nevertheless we try to aim the bread over the geese and into the waiting beaks of the ducks. When we first started doing this, Jude would throw entire pieces of bread into the water. It didn't take him long to figure out that you were supposed to dole out smaller bite sized pieces.
Now neither of us actually saw it happen, but if I know Jude (and I'm pretty sure I do) he was handing out small little pieces, no bigger than a crumb. Anyway it was pretty cute, watching him stand there throwing the bread over to the ducks and so I was fiddling with my brand new camera phone so I could get a picture and holding Sophie at the same time. Justin was just behind Jude, but wasn't exactly looking at him.
And then we heard a shriek. And I pushed Sophie into Justin's arms and rushed over to see Jude. There was a possibly guilty looking goose right in front of where Jude had been standing. I picked him up and he held out his finger to me.
"Mummy! Goose! Bite! Finger!" Jude cried.
I hugged him and kissed it better and said, "Bad Goose!" in my stern-ist Mother Voice and at some point Justin and I traded kids back. After all there wasn't any broken skin, I couldn't even tell which finger had been bit and there was still some bread to hand out. Except by this time, the geese had gotten restless. We were standing there, with bread in our hands, and we weren't sharing.
Those damn geese started getting belligerent. They started honking. Justin tried yelling and stomping to get them to scatter. They just looked mildly amused and continued walking towards him.
We basically emptied out the bread and ran. Those geese are mean.