Feeding the ducks on a Sunday afternoon

As I was watching a man feed a large group of ducks at the park this morning, I thought about our common family outings. I’ve written before about how we enjoyed park outings. There was only one park that had ducks, and I was eager to feed them each time we visited.

That started with food, of course. Anything Dad and I refused in our lunches was fair game. I can just hear my dad voicing his dislike of a new cracker or chip my mom tried to give him: “Those things were tasteless. Just like cardboard.” Into the duck bag they went.

After the ducks were fed, it was time for our own dinner. That usually meant a trip to the nearby IHOP. I think my dad would get a rotisserie chicken entree. We always set in the same booth and the rotisserie was right in my line of vision so I would watch the birds turning over and over. My mom always ordered the Mexican salad served in a giant tostada shell. I remember being fond of the chocolate chip pancakes at one point.

Simple memories, but sometimes those are the best kind to remember.

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One response to “Feeding the ducks on a Sunday afternoon

  1. Pingback: Dad’s 81st birthday | The Memories Project

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