Welcome to Bowmerica

So the duck was actually a birthday gift to my mother. My madre is very creative & artistic and people often love her tastes, but I hear all too often “Just go to an antique store or cost plus, you’re sure to find her something.” Not really. She’s a pain in the ass to shop for. I’m not nearly as talented in the “arts” as my mother, but we have very similar tastes in artistic liking. And I presume that is probably why I believe she’s such a pain in the ass to shop for.

So I walk in the Hyde Pard antique store and wander around aimlessly, dodging the four dogs wandering the territory (old dogs, and by that I mean old people dogs). Nothing, there isn’t a damn thing that stands out to me. Blankets, clocks, dishware, books. Shit, nothing. And then I see the bastard duckling in the glass case and immediately know nothing else in the store matters and for fucks sake, my mom needs that duckling with a nice bowtie because I know I need that duckling with a nice bowtie so I sit there like hey I might bargain with this person but really I don’t give a hell I’d pay top dollar for this nasty little peice of crap.

And so I buy the bowtie duckling, and I give it to my mother for her birthday, and she loves it. I see it in her eyes. She loves it.

And now the old bowtie duckling has a family.