Quack Quack Quack!

Maybe the first American I ever knew was Donald Duck. I was just a kid back then, when television was only beginning to spread. There were only a couple of channels, so we all had our fixed TV hours and our favorite cartoons. The next day, we’d go down to the street, play with the other kids, and talk about those cartoons—arguing over episodes and making jokes about the famous characters. My favorites were Disney’s Donald Duck. I can’t remember all the scenes anymore, but whenever I say its name, I still feel that little spark of peace inside.

Then I grew up. And one day, I had a son of my own.

By then, there were hundreds of TV channels—but nobody really watched TV anymore. Everything was on tablets and phones. I tried to tell my son about my childhood, about how much I loved Donald Duck. Maybe he took after me, because he instantly liked him too. The only problem was—no channel aired Donald Duck anymore. When he insisted, we found a few episodes on YouTube.

From that day on, every time he saw a duck, he’d shout in that thin, excited voice of his, “Dad, look! It’s Donald Duck!” and then imitate the angry cartoon voice:

“Quack quack quack!”

Time passed like that. Shortly after his sixth birthday, one evening, the TV was on in the living room as usual, tuned to the evening news. I was in my study, trying to finish a paper. Then I heard the sound of small feet running, followed by his urgent voice:

“Dad! Dad!”

I dropped my laptop and rushed out. My heart was pounding. I don’t know how many steps it took, but I must have broken the universe’s speed record.

When I reached the living room, everything seemed fine. My wife and son were smiling at the TV. My boy pointed at the screen and said,

“Dad, look! It’s Donald Duck!”
I turned to the TV. On the screen was an old, blond man with a heavy layer of makeup, his hand raised in the air. I caught the word Donald in the subtitles, turned to my son, and smiled.

“Good job, my boy,” I said.

And then, without missing a beat, he spun around and shouted,

“Quack quack quack!”

We all joined in, laughing as we did.

That’s how, on a January evening in 2017, we first met the new president of the United States—in the most entertaining way imaginable.

But of course, for someone who isn’t American, it’s impossible to keep liking a U.S. president for more than a day.

Years passed, and we forgot all about that evening. Then one night, we were watching the news again. A viral video from the U.S. was being shown. It was the same man, older now but unmistakable. He was saying, with that same serious face, “They’re eating the dogs and the cats.”

My wife and I looked at each other, then turned to our son.

He smiled and said,

“Quack quack quack!”

We burst out laughing. It went on for minutes.

I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in my life.