Quack

As a thank you for my fine service at my high school, I was given a tube of chap stick from the fine folks at Aflac; I believe it was insurance-flavored. Unless my lips are literally about to crumble into pieces and fall off, I don't use chap stick, so when Nikki came, I gave her the tube for her fine service as my friend.

Several nights later, at a particularly substance-laden post-graduation party, someone whined for chap stick. I offered up mine, or rather the one I had gifted to Nikki. Many people were intrigued as to why Aflac would manufacture chap stick in the first place. As we struggled to reach some kind of understanding (yes, it was that kind of night), a thought overwhelmed and outraged me.

Ducks don't have lips.

It was the epiphany that changed everything, including the entire tone of the party, although, in hindsight, that might just be how I perceived my revelation at the time. In that moment, I had never felt smarter. I felt as though I channeled Angela Lansbury and cracked the mystery just in time. Truthfully, I hadn't solved anything and merely added a question to a question, but, you know, Socrates would be proud.

Ducks don't have lips!