Chickens
Posted By Sika on September 24, 2008
Was just talking to my mama on the phone (irritatingly shortened by the whole disconnect and then have to pay connection fees again thing that happens just about always), and I was describing to her how eating chicken seems like a perfectly justified act here. I bite into a drumstick, feel the flesh satisfyingly part beneath my teeth, and hope that it belonged to the rooster who likes to wake me up at 3am.
Mom said she wasn’t too thrilled that my caring and empathy for other living creatures had turned to this.
I countered that the damn chickens ate my lavender. I had to store the seeds in soil in a refrigerator* for 6 weeks** and then sprout them and then lovingly plant them into margarine containers with holes slashed into the bottoms. Then, after they finally sprouted,*** and I transplanted them, the chickens got in through a hole in my garden fence. Luckily, I hadn’t planted all my sprouts, so after patching the hole I planted the remainders. My guard left the gate open after watering one morning, and the chickens got in and ate my lavender again.
My mom seemed unimpressed.
So then I told her how they get into my strawberry patch, pull the candy cane marked strawberries off their stems, take one or two pecks and then leave them scattered about the paths of my garden as if to say, “Ha Ha! We got in again!”
My mama said that sounds cute. I think she doesn’t actually love me. I think she loves the chickens more than she loves me.
*not mine
**to convince them that it was winter in Malawi
*** I held my breath for weeks due to the long germination period combined with the fact that the refrigerator froze them and I was unsure as to how wintry the lavender seeds wanted to be.
I say the chickens are asking to be eaten. Actually, at this point in their evolution, I think all chickens are asking to be eaten.
I can’t believe it has been so long since I’ve read this. And I am shocked and appalled that you would consider – even for a second – the possibility that I would love a chicken more than you… although I do have a fondness for a certain melodic rooster… and I have to admit being just a bit perturbed that — apparently — the chickens win every contest they have with you… hmmm … I wonder what that means…
Besides I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH!