Tuesday, April 26, 2011

sometimes i just really want people to listen to me.

When I take you to Target because we are out of toilet paper and heavy cream, and you run, literally run, around and scream... literally scream at the top of your voice?  And I tell you to stop doing that?  

Right then.  That's when I want you to listen.

When you are beatboxing for the sake of annoying the living shit out of every blood relation you have?  And whapping your foot against the couch, all percussive and whatnot?  And I ask you to please stop?

Right then.  Another example of a good time to listen to me.

And when we get three new grown-up chickens, and you watch me put them in the chicken pen with the other three grown-up chickens, and I say, Now people, these chickens are really stupid and don't know that this is their home, and if you let them out they will run away and we will have to go find them IF THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG DOESN'T EAT THEM FIRST?

Well, my dearest darling shortest people, that is another good time to listen to me.  Because collecting wet, frightened hens in the middle of a thunderstorm is not my idea of a good time.  Climbing in a tiny dog-house-igloo-thingy to fetch an angry, wet, frightened hen with a superty sharp beak?  ALSO NOT MY IDEA OF A GOOD TIME.  And holding said angry, wet, frightened hen with my left arm whilst picking up another wet, frightened hen with my right arm, and then being pecked WITHOUT MERCY by the Left Arm Hen?  

Turns out you were listening at that very moment.  Because three pairs of wide eyes stared with shock as I called Left Arm Hen a mother$ucker.

Moral of the story:  You should listen the first time. 


  1. I promise to always listen. Always. Just don't let go of that hen, please...I'm skurrrred...

  2. carol magoffin26 April, 2011 23:08

    I missed the storm. I was stuck at Wic for 3 hours with a fraud investigation. Yea not fun. If u find a nice little trick to have them listen the first time. Please share.

  3. Do they make child-proof locks for chicken coops?

  4. Daughter: Dad, can I go check for eggs?

    Me: No.

    D: Why not?

    M: Because you cannot check for eggs without letting all of the chickens out, and I do not feel like herding chickens all afternoon.

    (Five minutes later.)

    M: Why is there a chicken in the neighbor’s yard?

    D: Because I checked for eggs.

    I have found that one or two hard slaps to their little chicken heads will stop all malicious pecking. When your arms aren’t full. Or wet.

    I feel your pain.

    We also have a case of the "Whateva, I do what I wants" around here.

  6. ha! i don't mean to laugh at your hen pecking predicament but it made me snort my coffee.

  7. I'd like to comment that I feel you pain but I've never experienced the joy of being pecked by a wet angry hen. And I'm hoping that I never will.
    Sorry about all that. On a postive note, you did make us laugh. Okay, sort of at you. But it's all good, right?
    Your Friend, m.

  8. so ... please ... when i keep asking jeremy to let me have chickens and he's kind of sort of warming up to the idea ... will you remind me of the pecking chickens story.
    or ...
    just make sure my children know how to listen.

  9. aaah that's the funniest story of the week :P - I know I shouldn't laugh, but... you know, when something this bad/annoying happens to me - I simply tell myself that it will be a perfect story for my blog :D - and here you go! fabulous post! :D

  10. oh, y'all. chickens are such a good source of blog fodder. i *highly* recommend.


talk to me, people. because you know i get all giddy when you do.