Wednesday, August 03, 2011

Real Conversation, Hot Off The Press (And A Chicken Escapade)

James: Girl kisses are gross!
Me: James, you're never going to get a girlfriend.
James: Girlfriends are stupid! Remember, I'm never going to have one.
(I do remember...but I just like to hear his speech because its funny)
Me: Oh, yeah, you're just going to have a wife, right?
James: Yeah.
Me: Who are you going to marry? (Again, already know what he is going to say)
James: Katie
Me: You know James, you can't marry your sister.
James: Why not?
Me: Because you really need to swim out to the deep end of the gene pool, buddy.
James: What does that mean?
Me: It means 'Don't marry your sister!'
James: Is that a law?
Me: Yes.
Katie: Hey, Mom! (pretending to dive in) I'm going to go swimming in the genie pool and get wet!

I can't make this stuff up, folks!

In other news, this morning I was getting a few things finished up before we had friends over. James volunteered to take the trash out, and came running back in frantically trying to tell me something. It had to do with the chickens. Low and behold, those wiley little feathered beasts had figured out how to push over a screen I have up to keep them from going under the fence on one side. Four of them were in our neighbor's yard, and the fifth was out of the fence all together trying to get to the others. Now as it turns out, I have yet to tell those particular neighbors that I have chickens. Its not that I want to hide it or anything, but they are very...uh...elderly, and I rarely ever see them. For the record, I am sure they could care less that I have chickens, but in my mind, I debated. Should I go over and tell them 'Uh, excuse me, but my chickens are in your yard. Oh, yeah, by the way, I have chickens. So, do you mind if I go in and chase them out. Or, I could just send James over the fence to herd them back in. I chose option B. I hope they did not have a heart attack when they looked out their window to see a small boy chasing chickens around in their backyard. Instead of cooperating, they hid under a bush and refused to come out. Then I sent Katie over. In the meantime I caught the other chicken and put it back in the yard. The remaining four refused to come back in. I think they wanted to, but were scared and confused. After some fruitless arm waving and exasperated coaxing, they weren't budging. Alas, it was time to bust out the frozen corn. Now I know their kryptonite! They came right over, all but poor Patty, the bottom of the pecking order. Big Martha, she was smart. She was reaching her head through the fence to get the corn without coming through. I had to grab her and pull her, flapping and squawking, through the gap. (No birds were harmed in the making of this blog post!) After all that mess, I don't think the chickens will be roaming the yard much til I fix that gap. Here I was worried about them flying OVER the fence. Silly birds!

1 comment:

Terry and Linda said...

But you had the right tools---little children and corn! Great story!