It’s been quite a fast ride in the two weeks that’s already went by of the Duck’s legacy in Quebec. For one thing, she is sure her buttstained-sweat mark will be forever imprinted on the asscheek of each and every household item in her host family’s home. That, is my beloved lasting gift to you.
Fortunately, the heat’s subsided a bit, so it no longer feels like you’re swimming out of the shower, in all your glorious transpiration of course. But my charmant for all them mouchses and blood suckers has not abide in the least since your majesty has arrived. It has only recently occurred to me that the amount of time you’ve been bitten is practically the amount of times, or people you’ve shared blood with. It’s about as close to a romantic vampire as you can get. I’m sure if you asked Bella, she’d had told you the bites were interestingly itchy too.
My swollen pride though, has finally been equammanified by the rowdy passels of brats that I call my job. I sincerely share my condolences for you mother/brother/father/sister-hoods out there – my own older sister included. By gods, I almost judge you for not throwing me off your shoulder by accident hard enough while we were younger.
It’s really one thing to leave a home with just usually you and your beloved cat Duck, but to be plunged into screaming hell, plus the boiling heat, life almost seems unfair ye know. As if it’s out there to hand our asses back to us. Especially since you’ve got a little 6 year old at home who adores to ask you to play in the sand box with him. Oh my poor pedicured flappers. Not only so, the little guy makes a mean racer out of his mini VTT, almost threw the Duck up and over her head into their forest trail. Like my mantra demands – all children are evil. In addition to my lovely (overly) roasted feathers, my derniere sheen is of a few shades too bright for the front, so it makes for a lopsided typical female duck in the wild, and the Duck is no regular pecker. Nonetheless, this is all worth it for the first
truce with devil’s spawn paycheck. But to hell with you guys who tell me that it’ll be different with my ducklings.
As the Duck is pushing her luck with the internet here, she will happily bound off to her vendredi, where thereafter she may go magaziner at Montreal this weekend. Life will be good again.
Oh yeah, did I say that my job today was getting on a school bus and taking a fieldtrip to be paid? Oui, la vie est belle.
Ending with ugly-pretty llamas? Why, it’s a must.
*Is it sad that the Duck found it too terrifying to catch one of those flying creatures on her flappers?