All those colorful toy ducks I was in love with them, addicted to them. 1,500 I had from friends and family and any extra money I had I bought a nice colorful duck they clamed me down when I was mad and made me happy when I was sad. With its shinning colors and sqeaking noises and smiling faces, holding them in my hand almost like a baby on how fragile and light like a feather it is. Each one holds a new memory this when I got from the hostipal I was born at, this one is from my first boyfriend and this one is from Italy. Each time I hold one in my hands I smile and remember where I got it from, which makes it unique. Sometimes I think that when I die each member in our family will get one and I’ll watch from my grave each one being passed down from generations and centries until the last one is passed. I will whisper in the childs ear “keep the ducks coming into the family” and once the child first buys the first duck to start the collection then I will be at peace.