For as long as I've lived in Pittsburgh (eight years), I've wanted to do the Just Ducky tour thing. If you aren't so fortunate to live near the fabulousness that is The Burgh, Just Ducky tours are this WAY fun looking thing where you ride around in a World War II amphibious vehicle, traversing across land and water as you see the sights and do lots of quacking. I can't really say that it's so much about seeing the sights for me as it is having an excuse to quack at random pedestrians as you ride around in a vehicle that is built for war. OK, so really I just want to quack at people without having them try to commit me to a mental hospital.

Anyway.

With the grandparents coming to town, I figured I might FINALLY get my chance at a little quack action. Mr. Husband not only looks grumpy all the time, he IS grumpy all the time and thinks quacking at people is just plain silly. I know, he's weird like that. But, when out-of-towners head our way, we always try to do a few "local" things like go to a museum or two or five, eat at a few restaurants that are unique to Pittsburgh, and generally do things that our guests can't do back at home. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the grandparents would want to do a Just Ducky tour, so I set it up.

I woke up this morning all sorts of excited because it was Quack Day. I picked out my best quacking clothes, made sure The Toddler was adequately trained to contribute to the quacking, and mentally prepared myself to quack like no woman has ever quacked before. This day was eight years in the making, and I planned to enjoy every second of the quackiness.

And then the monsoon hit.

No, really, it was a monsoon in Pittsburgh.

A couple of hours before our quacky departure, it started to rain. And rain. And pour. It was raining cats and dogs AND ferrets AND sheep AND even elephants. It was raining HAAAAARD.

No quacking for me. :-(

The rained out quack-a-thon left us scrambling to figure out alternate plans. You know what? Nothing says "local" and "Pittsburgh" and "PERFECT!" like Chuck E. Cheese. So that's what we did. We went to Chuck E. Cheese and spent about a quazillion tokens so The Toddler could get a Wonderful! Fabulous! Fantastic! prize valued at . . . $1.00. Maybe $1.05.

(For the record, that was more Mr. Husband than me. The man walked in, bought the quazillion tokens, then handed me about a dozen of them. He could hardly lift his little token cup he had so many, and he fully intended to Play! Play! Play! all in the name of procuring The Toddler a dream toy. I quacked his head off, so he ended up sharing a little more fairly.)

Towards the end of our grown-up play date, The Toddler finally discovered the giant hamster cage and went all sorts of crazy climbing up in those tubes and slinking her way all around the place. Along the way she met The Boy. He couldn't have been more than four years old. He was probably about 40 inches tall, had light-colored hair, and was a scrawny little thing. (The physical description will become important soon, I promise.)

The Toddler and The Boy instantly bonded and became great friends. They followed each other around all over the hamster tubes, crossing back and forth in the maze, chatting along the way. At one point, they settled into one of the cars that hung at the end of a tube path and sat down for a nice long chat. I didn't actually see them settle for a spell in the car, but it was called to my attention by Daddy O' Mr. Husband who so kindly pointed out that our dear sweet daughter was PARKED WITH A BOY. I shrugged it off with a little smirk since they were just sitting in that car, chatting and giggling and having a great old time. Like kids should.

It wasn't until later that The Toddler gave us the low down of the details of her time with The Boy. As we were driving away from Chuck E. Cheese, she said, "I got kiss at Shucky Cheese."

"You got a kiss at Chuck E. Cheese?" I asked in my best Clint Eastwood make.my.day sort of voice.

"Yes, I got kiss. I got hug at Shucky Cheese, too!"

There's a warrant out for the arrest of that 40 inches tall, light-haired boy. Just bring him straight to me.