Looks like a Mallard to me… and other stories.


A youngster in primary school from the deep south, raised in the country, was being taught the concept of ordinal numbers. He was having a difficult time and his teacher was trying her best. She shows him a row of ducks and asks: If this is the first duck, this is the second duck, this is the third duck, what is this duck? Answer in a slow southern drawl: “I don’t know nothin’ much about ducks, but it looks like a Mallard to me.” 

This story was given to me by a co-worker who taught elementary school for many years and has now gone on to her reward.

My post is inspired by a cousin who told this story. Her father is a minister and once when he mentioned to their congregation, after the passing of a church member, that the body was to be buried at a certain time her little sister wanted to know what they planned to do with the arms and legs.

Another story I love was told to me when I was in speech class in college. A classmate told how their family began to call her sister ‘Lulu’. Her little sister could not pronounce the ‘y’ sound correctly and her ‘you’ always came out as ‘lou’. Once when their dad told her to do a chore she came into the living room, put her hands on her hips and said, “Why is it always Lou, Lou, Lou?”

At our house, a favorite expression is, ‘I tried to break it to him/her as easy as I could. ‘When our young son was enjoying sitting in his dad’s lap one evening we were all startled when suddenly Dad sat upright, took ‘Son’ and sat him down in the middle of the floor. Curious, I asked, “What happened?” My son looked at me with those deer caught in the headlight eyes and said, “All I said was that he had bad breath. I don’t know why he got upset, I tried to break it to him as easy as I could.”

My mother-in-law had a downstairs apartment and a floor furnace. When she wanted to talk to “Willie” who lived downstairs she would go to the floor furnace and talk to her. Our 2 1/2 year old went over to the furnace once day and yelled, “Willie, are you in dat heata?Afterwards we all would call “Willie, are you in da heata?” when we wanted to know if she was in.

Do you have a story you would like to share in our comment section? I know readers would enjoy hearing from you.

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About jlue

I am a grandmother of seven and I like to garden, read, study the Bible, and spend time with family. I am not very politically active, but very interested in who is elected to lead our country.
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One Response to Looks like a Mallard to me… and other stories.

  1. Robin Maples says:

    Those are very funny. That funeral was not long afte we moved to Hackleburg. I probably wouldn’t even remember the funeral except for that experience.

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