Warning: CONTAINS SPOILERS!
My reading of Make Way for Ducklings is not seeped in nostalgia like some readers' experiences might be at a later age. Because of this, I might have the advantage (or disadvantage?) of recognizing some questionable plot holes that the more sentimental reader might overlook.
Mr. and Mrs. Mallard open our story by flying over beautiful New England scenery with plenty of lakes, woods, and fields looking for a place to raise their family. Because there might be natural predators in, well, nature, they press onward toward the (naturally) safer choice to raise babies: in the heart of an east cost Metropolis.
Landing on an island in a lake in the middle of a city park, The Mallards delight in the free peanuts city slickers toss at them and exclaim that this right here is the good life (note: ducks should not eat peanuts). That is, until they almost get run over by a bicycle. No good! We can't have our babies squished. Let's press on, they agree.
Spotting another island (this time in the Charles River), The Mallards make the split-second decision of, "Yes let's just stay here." Good thing! Cause those eggs be comin.
The Mallards hang at their new island home, occasionally paddling over to the mainland to hang with their new police officer friend, Michael, who, you guessed it, feeds them peanuts.
After a few days, the eggs hatch into eight gorgeous ducklings named: Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack. Nope, not kidding. Jack and Mack lucked out, Quack is going to be forever teased at Duck School (Imagine if you were named "Yell") and Ouack will forever reflect on the fact that his parents didn't give a damn about his name, so long as they maintained their cute ABC trend.
Right after hatching, Daddy Duck thinks it's an excellent time to do some exploring. But, he says, I'll meet you in a week at the Public Garden (or the first island the Mallards encountered in Boston). Note: he doesn't say, "I'll be back in a week, hang tight," he says, "Please take our eight newborns on a dangerous excursion through the streets of Boston. Even though I can fly."
Luckily, Momma Mallard has taught the ducklings how to walk in a line, which is really the only necessary life-skill for city ducklings. That paired with, of course, the jolly bobby Michael get the ducklings safely across their first street. With a HUGE sense of urgency, Michael then phones the other policemen of the town saying, "Dudes, there are ducks on a mission in Boston; we gotta start closing down some streets."
Meanwhile, Momma Mallard struts around with a spring in her waddle as men and women praise her ability to keep her ducks in a row. She leads her gang through intersections like she owns the town, as numerous cops stop traffic to let them peep by. Once safely in the Public Garden, Mr. Mallard greets them with a subtle, "What took you so long?" while all the baby ducklings are wide-eyed and sallow-faced, wishing they could have spent the day hunting for beetles instead of nearly loosing Nack at the intersection of Churchill and Main.
In the end, The Mallards decide to stay at the Public Gardens, because they liked eating peanuts all day, and the bicycles aren't really THAT bad, right? Not like those foxes out in nature.
A beautifully illustrated book that highlights the complexities of sink-or-swim parenting, city-dwelling wildlife, and misconceptions about waterfowl diets.