Duck trauma

So I just found out that Riri loves ducks. I used to have a duck as a pet when I was a child. We bought him from a street vendor in Mexico City when I was like 10, my sister was like 7 or so. He was such a cute little duckling. He grew up to become a nice white duck with a nice bright orange beak. The woman who worked at our house used to feed him tomatoes, and he spat all of the seeds and after a while we had a nice big tomato plant around his food plate. Oh the good nice days of childhood! One summer my sister and I went to a summer house with our grandparents for a whole month or more, and when we came back my mother told us that she had taken Patty (that’s how we named our duck) to the zoo. He was now very happy surrounded by a lot of ducks and having a lot of fun. Every time we drove close to the zoo I turned my head and thought that my duck was there living happy with all his friends.

Then some years passed. About 15, actually. A couple of years ago, me being a grown-up already, I was talking to my mother about all this saying something like “Remember that duck we had that you took to the zoo?”, next thing I know she says “Oh, I didn’t take him to the zoo, we ate it, the maid killed him and we cooked him Chinese style”. OH MY GOD!! This was a shock to me and everything I grew up believing in! MY PARENTS ATE MY PET-DUCK! I was like 25 and had a NEW childhood trauma! How could my mother have done this to us? Had she no heart? And the maid… I mean she used to feed him, she’s the one who got him so big and healthy!

I called my sister in San Diego and told her the real fatidic ending of our pet-duck Patty. Even after 15 years she cried on the phone! Only she and I understand the pain of finding out what really happened!

No wonder I am deranged and will probably have to spend a big portion of my adult earnings in therapy. This is a sad, sad story.