Dad Tells His Son If He Can Bring Home A Goose Alive, He'll Give Him $20. The Result Is Priceless
February 12, 2016
When I was 8 or 9 in 1998, my father told me that he would give me $20 if I could catch a goose and bring it to him alive. $20 in 1998 to an 8 year old is roughly equal to $2,000 in 2016 to a 25 year old. Needless to say, I wanted that goose.
I went to the 'duck park' a block from my house because it was the only place I knew I could find a goose to persuade.
So, now you're thinking I brought some bread and lured that bastard all the way to my house right? Wrong. I watched way too many John McLintock films to do this the reasonable way.
I rode my bike down a small hill on one side of the park and straight into a flock of Canadian geese that were chilling on the grass. In true John Wayne fashion I jumped off my bike (horse) and squared up with a goose, my target. Apparently the geese didn't think much of 8 year old me, they barely stirred. I took a single step towards my fowl foe and suddenly it stood up and got all serious with me. I then realized that geese are fairly large and can fly.
"Grabbing a goose and bringing it home" no longer seemed reasonable.
Option two, I'll just get some bread and lure the goose back to my house. I get on my bike and start to leave, when I hear a single, very agitated honk coming from behind me. Goose McAngryFace decided I needed to be taught a lesson and started chasing me! I barely got up the hill and inside the house before he caught up with me.
Proudly, I retrieved my father and introduced him to Gregory the Goose before demanding payment for my services. Dad thought the whole thing was hilarious, except for the part where we had an angry goose in our yard. My father's solution was to chase the goose away with a broom.
Don't try to chase geese, they're tyrannical and they don't believe in mercy.
Gregory the Goose was no exception, after giving a solitary warning honk towards my father he performed what can only be described as the goose equivalent of a roundhouse kick. He flew up, and smacked my dad in the face with his wings before landing, and honking angrily as if to say "You want some more of this?"
My father, is not a man to be trifled with, especially if you're a goose.
He made a menacing horizontal swing with the broom towards the goose. My brother and I looked on through the picture window. Gregory the Goose, tried another roundhouse. This time he had to abort at the last minute, he barely escaped my fathers overhead vertical swing.
A good fighter knows both when to run, and when to riposte.
As my fathers overhead swing was about to come crashing down he serendipitously let go of the broom allowing it to become a projectile attack. As the broom flew through the air towards our fowl friend the Goose my father ducked inside the porch and locked the door before making several crude honking noises towards the goose through the window. I like to imagine he was able to say something truly nasty because he secretly spoke goose fluently.
Dad had a pretty good sized bruise on his neck from where the goose tagged him with the first roundhouse; it lasted about a week.
In war there are no winners or losers, only victims.
Story by PM_ME_SOME_BIRDS
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