“You’re killing them with bread.”
Scared my little daughter and just about everyone away from the duck pond. I accepted his argument, as did most of the other parents with small children. But it was a downer. None of us could relax with our seed packets. He always found something to complain about.
Last week I saw him hobbling across the road, left arm in a sling, his head bandaged. Someone told me he’d got on the wrong side of a swan.