Feeding the Geese

One of my favorite activities to do when I have my grandchildren is to visit Woodlawn Park.  Woodlawn Park is a picturesque park surrounded by a small lake.  Whenever I visit with the kids we start by feeding the ducks and geese followed up by an hour of running, jumping, swinging, sliding, and of course lots of make believe in one of the four playgrounds located within the park.

It's always an adventure feeding the wild life but especially so one particular afternoon while I was with Abby and Wesley, my two oldest grandchildren and by far the two most adventurous.  We arrived carrying a bag of bread cubes to feed our feathered friends who at first appeared to be cute and quite adorable.  From past experience with this species of fowl I knew they were really vicious little demons who had to be kept at arms length and watched carefully. 

If I had any common sense I wouldn't go near the water's edge where the little devils reside but out of love for my grandchildren I put on a brave face and ventured into the devil's den bearing gifts of bread to placate the monster.  In my defence I had asked the kids to throw the bread out the car window to the geese but they would have nothing to do with that plan.  They insisted we venture out among the ducks and geese.

It started out well enough when there were only a handful of geese gathering around us.  Suddenly geese are running at us from every corner of the park, running on their funny webbed feet, waggling their fat goose asses and flapping their big goose wings much too close to my grandchildren.

Protectively I jumped between the geese and my two precious grandchildren as the geese began fighting among themselves for the bread the children had thrown to them.  My heart beat fast as they charged me, squawking, honking and viciously snapping at me.  I was trying to coax the kids back into the safety of the car.  I let out a shriek in terror as Wesley slipped and fell into the slick goose poop covered ground.  I ran and grabbed him up all the while yelling at Abby to get in the car fast. 

The children calmly stood their ground explaining there was still bread to be fed.  The noise was deafening what with the geese honking, the wings flapping, the children yelling and my heart pounding. 

Just as I turned to shove the kids into the safely of the car one of the geese bit me on the butt.  That was the last straw.  I lost all reserve and yelled at the top of my lungs for the kids to get in the car, kicked at the goose, and ran to the drivers side so that I could get in and make my escape.  I backed out of the parking places throwing gravel as I skidded away leaving nothing but, geese, feathers and lots of goose poop.

As I said before, I have very little common sense when it comes to my grandchildren.  I still take the children to the park whenever they request it but I am very cautious.