Oh, how I wish I was kidding!
I was supposed to work from noon to seven tonight, but things were slow and I came home early.
Our bedroom is accessible from the bathroom, or from the dining room, and both doors were closed. I thought my wife might be taking a nap, but she doesn't usually close the doors when she does that.
I found her in the living room, and she was surprised to see me.
"Don't let the cats in the bedroom," she said. "There's a duck in there."
"Okay." I blew her a kiss and was about to head up to my den. Took two steps and turned. "There's a duck in the bedroom? Am I plucking it, or thawing it."
She smiled until she realized I was serious. "No! It's not for dinner. It's a duckling. I brought it home because it got too cold at Mom's house last night, and she didn't want me to leave it in her bathroom."
You should probably know that my mother-in-law does not keep ducks as pets. She has a pond on her property, and my brother-in-law tries to raise ducks there. The ducks never last long. Dogs and other animals find them to be easy pray.
Nonetheless...my wife was telling me that there is a duck in our bedroom. We return to the story...
"There's a duck," I said in the way a man trying to wrap his brain around a strange idea might say, "in our bedroom."
"No. There's a duckling in our closet on the bureau."
"You do know there's no closet door, right? ...Just that curtain."
"It won't go anywhere. It's a duckling and it can't fly yet."
"I was going to take a nap."
"You still can. He won't go anywhere."
So there you are. I'm going to take a nap. With a duck. You can take the boy out of the city...and he'll freak when he finds a damn duck in the bedroom.