Last month on Facebook, I admitted to purchasing 12 rubber ducky ninjas in the last moments for terror before Christmas appears.
They probably cost one penny to make and five pennies to paint, yet I had them shipped to my house for Christmas. Everyone, including Scott and me, got three in their stocking. I was both proud and ashamed, which is exactly why I shared it on social media.
Of course, in the mystery that is gift-giving, my kids are enamored. They never bathe without them. These ridiculous, pointless ninjas bring inexorable joy to everyone in our family except of one: Lars.
In purchasing these happy ducks in rubber ninja suits, I inadvertently own a dog-torture device. At any point, I can turn on the faucet and Lars will bound in — determined that this will be his moment. His reunification. His triumph.
My dog is the great Gatsby forever reaching across the bay for the green, orgiastic light at the end of Daisy’s dock except his is a blue rubber ninja trapped (or free?) on a current of bath water.
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eludes us then, but that’s no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther … And one fine morning —
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
– from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby
I can’t wait to see what ninja parties he throws.
PS. You can buy ninja rubber ducks on Amazon IF YOU DARE.