Somehow instead of living with a human family, I seem to have acquired a fledging of ducks. For the record, a fledging is a bird that is capable of flying but is still dependent upon parental care and feeding. And my two teenage daughters and my husband are so used to me giving them instructions that, although capable of making decisions on their own, they are dependent on me to make those decisions when they are in my presence.

So I can either consider it flattery that they trust me so completely they don’t make a move without me or I’ve been so controlling they really can’t think without me. For my own sanity, I choose to believe a third option, which is they are really lazy and prefer not to think on their own, because at least it means they can think on their own.

I know they must think sometimes, because I’m not with them all the time. I don’t do my kids homework for them; in fact, they rarely even need help with their homework. I don’t show my husband how to fix cars. I don’t spoon feed them; I watch them pick up the fork and put in into their mouths all by themselves.

But when they are with me in public, they seem unable to make a decision. My husband asks me if he should wear a coat and then once in the car, where he should park. Really, I don’t care where he parks, as long as he parks. The indecision makes for quite the parking lot tour as he passes up a spot thinking there’s a better spot only to pass it up again, like there is some right answer I’m keeping hidden from him. Then I get angry because I just want him to park already.

When we are in the store, the three of them follow behind me as I shop. I’m sure they look like the three stooges trailing me through the store one behind the other. When I stop they literally bump into me like dominoes; not just one of them, but all three of them, bump, bump, bump. I often have to stop, wait for the bumping to finish, tell them to just stand right where they are because I need to go back and check something very quickly and they’ll be all right on their own for 30 seconds. I also have to be the one pushing the cart or they’d jam it into my heel the moment I stopped.

I understand by following me so closely, they don’t have to think about where they are walking. They can look at all the bright colors and screaming titles of the products we pass. They are so trusting I will not let anything happen to them, they just turn off the subconscious part of their brains which allows them to keep themselves safe. This does require extra work on my part. I have learned to follow my instinct on this. If I see a post ahead of me and I think I should tell them to be careful of the post, I must say it; otherwise they’ll hit the post. Same with walls, curbs, cliffs, and other drop offs.

I prefer to go shopping on my own if I can help it, because I expend a lot of emotional energy keeping three additional people safe. Not to mention it’s more expensive to take them shopping, because they do burst from their bubble of trust every once in a while to ask if they can have candy, gum, special sugary drink, chocolate frosted sugar bombs or some other form of junk I don’t usually buy.

Though small, those irritating requests give me hope they are really thinking for themselves. I’m even more hopeful when I suggest my daughters spend their own money on their junk food request. When they decline, my heart soars and I just smile, because they have just made a decision on their own.

Sure, they sometimes act like ducks, but they are my ducks.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom committed to writing about the humor amidst the chaos of a family. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com.