Duck and Run

So, yesterday I was driving to the gas station. A duck (oh, yes... I said DUCK)... one of those low-flying ones, had taken off and was flying straight towards me. There was a curve in the road, that I knew would only bring me more into its path, so I stopped. "Oh, F*ck!!!"  as I embraced for impact....

After hearing all that, I was surprised I didn't hear a crash though the window. But I looked and my side mirror was turned in, with the mirror popped out and hanging by it's wires. Then there was a smear of wetness (not blood), dirt, and a feather or two across my window. I thought, "OMG, that thing committed suicide by mini-van". I got out of my car to fix my mirror, and I saw the duck LITERALLY shake it off and walk away. My gosh, those things are resilient! But my mirror wasn't.

When I got home, told Tim and he went out to look at my van. He said, "It looks like you hit a car".  I got mad for a second... ~Like why would you say that?~ So I pointed out all the freaking feathers along the top of my door... and was thinking to myself, "I didn't hit a f*cking car. A DUCK... HIT... ME!"  He said, "I can clearly see the feathers babe, but look at these scratches. It looks like you hit a car!  F*cking ducks." LMAO.  It really did look like I scraped a car. I had white scratch marks on the mirror. Craziness.

I was finally able to snap the mirror back into place, but fudg-sicles.... A friggin' duck?!!?!