The Rain of the Goose

Have you ever thought how awesome it would be if - during certain moments of our lives - that our brains could take pictures that we could print out and save for later?

Just me?

Figures.

Regardless, the following is one of those times.

I was coaching my son's soccer practice when the most amazing thing happened.

My son's ball ended up being kicked WAY over to the left side of the field. My guess is that it was kicked by one of the kids on Prozac that I have the honor of trying to herd on a bi-weekly basis.

To the right of the soccer field, and unbeknownst to us..

..was a GINORMOUS flock of geese.

Like this:

As my son started running over to get his ball, a noise erupted that I can best describe as rush hour in Los Angeles and everyone's horn is stuck.

As I turned towards the noise, I saw 50 large Canadian geese rise from the grass.

I know they were Canadian because they left poutine everywhere and were complaining about the price of cigarettes.

They immediately formed and began flying away in the direction of the left side of the field...

..where my son was running to get his ball.

THIS? This is where I wish my mind could take a picture.

I watched in horror as the army of geese flew over my son, his back turned and unaware of the armada of flying beasts above him...

..and they began pooping.

"CAM! COVER YOUR HEAD!"

He swears he did not hear me say this and I probably didn't because I was dying laughing, because this is what I was looking at the best I can illustrate it:

It was like Armageddon but instead of brimstone and fire it was goose shit.

EVERYWHERE.

I could hear him screaming under my hysterical laughter as he tried to dodge the aerial bombardment cascading around him as he tried to reach his soccer ball.

And then they were gone.

My son returned, somehow unscathed and laughing himself. After 5 minutes of trying to compose myself, we continued playing.

On another field, of course.

So much goose shit.