Ahh those were the good old days. A time when we would all be content just sitting around a circle tapping each other on the head. They were simpler times indeed. Times when a game of tag could occupy three hours of every day and give you a great nights sleep every night. Sometimes I try to relive these days by going out on the street and touching people at random while notifying them that they are indeed "it". Results haven't been positive thus far, and have resulted in numerous restraining orders and psychiatric appointments. However, I have now built up an immunity to pepper spray so it's not all bad.
There should be nothing wrong with a group of twenty-somethings all getting together to compete in these activities again. The next time somebody asks you to help fill out a game of basketball or football, notify them that you applaud their leadership but would much rather engage in a rousing game of tunnel tag! The look they give you is one only reserved for us true revolutionaries.
Duck, Duck, Goose was also a fantastic sport (yes, a sport. It's coming to the olympics soon). This was a game that taught kids at an early age how exclusionary it is to be a goose. Nobody wants to be a goose. We all want to be ducks. If someone calls you out as being a goose you have to defend yourself by tackling them as quickly as possible, thus proving that you are way more duck than they could ever be. Tip: If there's a girl you have a crush on, make sure you make her the goose every single time. You'll revel in the time you get to spend grabbing for each other.
Why bring this up now, you ask? Well it just so happens that I saw a pack of ducks swimming today as a tight-nit group. Off in the distance on the lake, a goose. A smart, yet cautionary game this Duck, Duck, Goose turned out to be. So what did I do with this pack of happy looking ducks? I fed them bits of bread of course. The goose got nothing. Just as well. Have you ever tried approaching a goose? They hate humans... and I think they're plotting something sinister. We've tried to appease them by allowing them to have their own brand of vodka, what else could they possibly want? Keep a keen eye, that's all I'm saying.
Also, I just want to say that feeding the ducks brought a certain level of glee to my heart. It really is enjoyable knowing that you helped some kind of creature gain some sustenance for the day. This will probably make me a good candidate for fatherhood. Some day I will have little ones relying on me to be fed. And when that day comes, I will place them gingerly in the tub and start throwing bread crumbs at them. Ahh, I can't wait for that day to be here.
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