"Quack quack quack quack quack..."

One of the good things about our new fancy phones is that they can be used as alarm clocks. This is good because, instead of waking up to the awful ding-ding-ding-ding of a mechanical clock or the wretched waah-waah-waah-waah of a digital clock or the jarring DJ banter of a radio clock,¹ we can wake up to any one of the nifty little tones they put on those phones. I wake up to the quacking of a duck.

I like waking up to the quacking of a duck. It's a good sound, not harsh, but lively enough to get noticed. It's hard to have a bad day when one wakes up to duck-quacking.

The only issue: the other morning, while dreaming, just before I woke, I remember, in my dream, thinking, "Whoah, there’s a duck in my drawer."² (I keep my phone in my bedside drawer.) I wasn't displeased, just confused: why would it be in there? (It's a very small drawer, but in physics-defying Dreamland, I never wondered how would it be in there?) When I woke up, I confess, I was a little disappointed. Having a duck in my drawer would be funny. (Having a jarring radio DJ in my drawer would not be funny.) Oh, well.

1 Didn't every movie in the 80s have a scene of somebody waking up to a radio clock? And the DJ blather was always used as an expository plot device, "setting the stage" for the day's narrative.

2 Not "drawers". It would be much worse if there was a duck in my drawers.