Today as we strolled through the park I saw two boys, about nine, hurl a stout branch into the pond amongst a stampede of ducklings. The newlings fled, churning their little drumsticks and chirruping, and I don't think any was hit, but the hurler was certainly aiming for them and not just throwing an object to make a splash. "That's terrific," I said to them--they had so little shame that they did this despite being our being so close they could hear a regular speaking volume, and they turned to my voice. "That's just what I like to do around babies, to throw sticks at them. You should be very proud."
Hellions. Apparently I am out to correct stupid behavior, one event after another.