Duck and Goose
The little goose stood quietly, not blinking an eye, not even taking a breath, because he didn’t want to scare away the butterfly perched on his forehead. Just a little longer, he thought, until the little duck could come and see this. “Little Bluebird, have you seen the little duck?” he asked carefully. “I’ve seen him, he’s running from the west,” said Little Bluebird, “and he’s not alone.” “Not alone?” asked the little goose, “Which way is the west?” “That way,” Little Bluebird pointed in the direction, and then flew off.
Just a little longer, until the little goose could come see Thistlehead, the little duck thought, running across the meadow with his new friend. Along the way, he pointed out all the places he and the little goose liked best. “Here’s the water lily pond, there’s the shadow grove, and up ahead is the little puddle by the riverbank.” “Ha! I love puddles!” Thistlehead shouted, dashing ahead. “Wow, you sure are a fast duck,” Boro called out behind her. “Of course! I’m probably the fastest duck in the world,” Thistlehead said proudly, “I bet lightning isn’t as fast as me. I bet the wind isn’t as fast as me either.”
Meanwhile, the little goose heard a rustling sound as stems snapped and leaves crunched. He looked sadly as his butterfly fluttered away. From behind the bushes, the little duck and Thistlehead jumped out. “You missed something cool, little duck,” said the little goose, “A butterfly was just sitting on my head.” “Sounds awesome, little goose.” The little duck answered. “Are you sure it wasn’t a moth?” Thistlehead asked. “Oh no, definitely not, little shorty,” the little goose replied to the unfamiliar guest. “I’m not a little shorty!” Thistlehead shouted angrily. “Little goose, this is Thistlehead,” the little duck introduced. “Nice to meet you, Thistlehead,” said the little goose. “How long is she staying?” he whispered to the little duck. “She’s staying for good,” the little duck said happily, “Her family moved here.”
“You know what, little duck,” Thistlehead said, “Once, three butterflies landed on her head at the same time! Isn’t she something, little goose?” The little duck quacked excitedly. “Yeah, she sure is something else, you’re right.” “That’s two more butterflies than landed on your head!” “I know, I can count,” the little goose mumbled. “Hey, I’m really good at math too!” Thistlehead said excitedly, “Maybe the best around here!”
“For example, what’s four plus nine, little goose?” she asked, “Quick, think fast!” She started splashing around in a little puddle. Splash! “Thirteen!” she shouted out the answer before the little goose could respond. “What’s six plus three?” Splash! Splash! “Nine! That’s so easy!” Thistlehead answered her own question, “How about seven plus two?” Splash! Splash! Splash! “Still nine, no need to think!” Thistlehead squealed, “Nine, nine, nine, nine!” “I can’t do math when I’m soaking wet,” the little goose said, spitting out water. “Can we do something else?” he grumbled. “I can hold my breath forever,” Thistlehead boasted, “Can you do that, little goose?” “Why would I want to do that?” “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” the little duck encouraged him, “I’ll time you.” “Alright,” the little goose said, taking a deep breath. Thistlehead did the same.
The little duck started counting, “One toad opens its mouth, two toads…” He counted all the way to eleven toads when the little goose collapsed on the ground. “I won!” Thistlehead said, spinning around. “You’re really good at this! I bet you could hold your breath forever!” the little duck shouted excitedly, “What do you think, little goose?” “I’d love to see her try,” the little goose said weakly.
“So, what fun things did you two use to do around here?” Thistlehead asked. The little duck looked at the little goose. “We played games,” he said. “I bet I’d win!” Thistlehead quacked loudly. “We’d run across the meadow, or play with a ball,” the little goose said, “There’s no winning or losing.” “Why not make it more exciting,” Thistlehead said, “Last one to the top of the hill is a rotten egg.” She said this as she bolted off. “Well, I guess I’m the big rotten egg,” the little goose said. “Come on, little goose!” the little duck called out, “Let’s go see how fast Thistlehead can climb the hill.” “Can’t we just watch the clouds?” the little goose mumbled. But Thistlehead and the little duck had already run too far to hear him.
At the foot of the hill, the little goose began to complain, “Can’t we just…” Thistlehead interrupted him, “Can’t we just play dragonfly balancing? But first, let’s have a one-legged standing contest, then a balance beam race, a stick balancing contest, and finally, a hurdle race.” By the time they got to the dragonfly balancing, the little goose had had enough. “I’d rather go look for butterflies,” he muttered to himself.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
