Duck. . . Duck. . .

When I dropped Mikie off at daycare last week, the kids were playing Duck, Duck, Goose. I don't know if Mikie had ever played before, but it had all the elements to become his new favorite game: tapping/hitting people on the head, running, throwing oneself on the floor.

Later that night, Mikie told Mike all about this new game. As with most games, Mikie wanted us to play. I wish our camcorder was working, because I don't know that I can do it justice describing the scene. Imagine Mike and I sitting in a "circle" (translation: sitting across from each other). Mikie walked around us, patting us on the head in turn saying "Duck. . . Duck. . . Duck. . . Duck. . . Goose". We would get up and chase him around the "circle" (translation: the sole person remaining in a seated position), until he decided to sit down.

During the third or fourth round of Duck, Duck, Goose, Mike was the "ducker". Mikie looked like he was going to pee his pants with anticipation over who Mike would pick. From that moment on, he started squealing "GOOSE ME, DAD!" everytime Mike was the ducker.

It brings a whole new meaning to the game. . .

Love, The Trahans