Ducks, CDs, and Free Panties

The other day I put on my Awesome Mom suit and walked my kids to 7-Eleven for Slurpees. 

(Read: It was 6:00 p.m. and I was desperate while Scotty still had four more hours of school).

I loaded up the double jogger (purchased from the thrift store for $10 - thankyouverymuch), gave my kids the official Busy Road Speech, and off we went. 

One of the problems with taking my kids for a walk on a busy road is that my children are utterly fascinated with garbage. Our commute time is drastically increased by the garbage exploration process. Nicky is the worst. 

I have a rule that I proclaim loudly and regularly: If you don't know what it is, don't touch it!

Yeah.

They don't listen.

It could be bleeding and pulsing, and they'd still pick it up!

Which leads me to the first finding of the night: a dead duck. Fortunately it was not bleeding or pulsing, but there is a slight chance its head was missing. My kids had to stop and study it for a good five minutes. I now know not to gasp when I see something dead unless I want to spend a significant amount of time with said dead thing. Luckily they refrained from touching - for that I am most grateful. 

Of course, we had to stop and look at it again on the way home while we mindlessly sipped our Slurpees.

The next finding was a discarded rewritable CD. 

There's just something about CDs on the side of the road. I automatically assume that they are loaded with the most foul, vulgar, and violent music known to man. I just really can't imagine that they're going to have Celine Dion or Charlotte Church on them. 

Then again, I never check. Maybe it's Celine and Charlotte that get tossed out the window. How would I know?

Either way, I'm never happy when my son finds a CD on the side of the road. 

Because he's going to bring it home.

And this particular CD was in really good condition, and he knew it, and he was so excited to put it in the CD player at home and see what was on it.

{{shudder}}

(There was nothing on it. Glory hallelujah. But now he asks me several times each day to burn him a CD with "Human" on it. Yes, that is my seven-year-old's favorite song). 

The third item of interest was a "Free Panty" coupon from Victoria's Secret. 

This.

This was the ultimate, "Oh, please, no!" moment of the night. 

I'll take a dead duck over a "Free Panty" coupon any day. 

It was Nicky who found it, of course, and he immediately held it in the air and yelled, "Oh yeah! I get free girl underwear!" 

Then for the next several minutes, my coupon-obsessed son asked, "Mom, when can you take me to this store to get my free girl underwear?" "Do they have underwear like yours there?" "Do you think this coupon will work at Wal-Mart?"

On and on and on.

I'm not the type of mom to immediately freak out over something like this. Instead I sit back and observe and try to see what kind of questions he has so I can figure out what kind of discussion we need to have. On the inside I'm usually going, "Oh no, oh no, oh no!" But on the outside I play it cool. So I let him ramble on for a block or two while I contemplated ways to break the news that I wasn't going to take him to Victoria's Secret for a free panty.

Fortunately, Nicky eventually discovered the expiration date, which was June 6. He let out a disappointed, "Aw, maaan!" and then he abandoned the coupon.

(Huge sigh of relief from Mom).

I then pointed out to him that he didn't need any girl underwear anyway, to which he replied that he planned on giving it to his friend Rilee for her birthday.