Feeling Ducky

It had been four years since we went last. We didn't go in 2019, but then COVID-19 hit and there hadn't been another in-person event until now. 

Our oldest Beatrice really wanted to go again. To play the games and race the ducks. Our youngest Bryce wasn't as enthusiastic, but was willing to go. My wife Amy and I were in either way; it was always a fun community event, especially for kids.

Bea was 9 and Bryce 7 the last we went to the Duck Derby, a community event put on by a service organization called Omega Nu. They raise money for the local community in various scholarships and educational materials for teachers, and community programs and charities. 

But for the kids, it was all about racing rubber ducks for prizes, playing fun carnival-like games to win tickets to exchange for prizes, eating hamburgers and hot dogs and lots of treats. Music played, bouncy houses bounced with little kids, and fun in the spring sun lit up everywhere we looked when we arrived.

Bea didn't look happy. "These are really games for little kids," she said.

"Yes, but you still wanted to come," Bryce reminded her. 

"Yes, they are," I said. "Let's check it out and see what's up."

Bea nodded. We bought the girls their racing ducks, their take home ducks, their game tickets, and I got a hot dog. We watched one of the duck races, and then the girls played the kiddie games and won more tickets for prizes.

There's a big difference between being 9 and 7, and being 13 and 11, but the girls still held onto their childhood memories of this event as they played the kiddie games. After about an hour they were done and cashed in their tickets for prizes and treats. All around us the pent up demand for families to be outside together at events like this was palatable. There were smiles everywhere. Joy was bountiful.

Watching all the ducks rush by us in the blue tarp-lined racing river reminded me of how fleeting childhood can be. Our girls watched them fly by with a bittersweet smile, as did we. As we left, our joy washed away the bittersweet, leaving us feeling ducky in its wake. 

"I want to volunteer next year," Bea said as we got in the car. "Seems like there's a lot of older kids helping out."

My smile stretched beyond my ears.