A Duck Named Charlie

A duck,

Named Charlie,

Waddles between my legs, right by my feet,

Looking up and squawking at me,

Asking for snacks.

I almost tripped over him about 17 times already.

He actively tries to eat my shoelaces.

Frggin Charlie.

I’m baking a pie for my lady today,

On her 33rd birthday,

And then dinner.

The dogs whine by the door,

Begging me to take them out on another walk,

But she’ll be home soon,

And I still need to start dinner.

She cried this morning.

She always cries on her birthday.

I don’t fully understand it,

But I respect her emotions,

And how she needs to process them.

Aging scares some people,

But,

Today,

On her birthday,

I ache to see her happy.

Our Tortoise, Achilles, impatiently knocks on our backdoor.

I saw him start his sprint across our backyard ten minutes ago.

The dogs move from the front door, to the back, barking at Achilles. 

I let him in,

Almost stepping on Charlie in the process, 

And let the dogs out.

The oven timer goes off.

Pie!

It’s a peach cobbler with a caramel drizzle and homemade whipped cream. I picked up some french vanilla ice cream from the bakery she works at on Saturdays. 

It’s December 8th and the snow slowly rocks down to the ground from the grey sky. 

She cried today.

And I hate seeing her cry.

It kills me a little. 

Her smile brings me life.

But her tears kill me. 

I never realized that when you truly love someone, you long for them to love themselves as much as you love them. 

I wish, more than anything, that she loved herself as much as I love her today, but hey, it’s not my birthday. Today it’s her wishes that matter. 

I think I’ll ask her if on my birthday we can celebrate her and on her birthday we celebrate me. I bet she’ll agree. I bet she’ll like that idea. Maybe that’s what we can do next year. Maybe that way she won’t cry on her birthday. 

CH 8/21/25