I had a friend in high school, you know the type... blonde, tall, perfect body. The kind of girl you really wanted to hate. But the girl I knew was also fun and incredibly sweet so, despite my inner jealousy, I loved her to no end. She was book-smart (in fact, she's a lawyer today) but she was, without a doubt, the ditsiest person I've ever encountered. Once while eating lunch she asked in all seriousness "If a tangerine comes from Florida, isn't it an orange?". I kid you not.

One summer I vacationed with her family (on their yacht, no less). When she and I were playing tennis at the marina an eager duck waddled up to my friend. She stuck her fingers out to the duck as if offering a bit of food. It came closer, opened its bill, and snapped down on her fingers. My friend yelled out in pain. Two seconds later she stuck her fingers out to the duck again. Snap! Ouch! And again. Snap! Ouch! Over and over... 5, 6, 7 times. Snap! Ouch! Finally, holding her red, swollen, and painful fingers in the air my friend said "What a stupid duck. When is he gonna learn I don't have any food?" I just shook my head and wondered what the duck thought of her.

Today I waited for more news on Peanut. Maybe Mrs. Chips received permission to visit him. Maybe my agency was able to get some official word on his whereabouts or availability. Something. Anything. Please. But again, there was no news.

I'm starting to think that I'm a lot like my friend. And the adoption process? Well, it's just one great big duck.