Yesterday as I was driving home from my foot MRI I saw a chicken cross the road. At least , I think it was a chicken. It was little and reddish brown and had a little red comb on the top of its head. I must admit though that I didn't have my glasses on and so it may have been a little fuzzy. And I'm not totally sure you can trust my eyes as I once mistook dry leaves for a chipmunk. I even stopped so I wouldn't hit the poor thing! The wind was blowing so it was moving a little, ok??
Anyway, what would a chicken be doing on my street anyway?? I think it is against the law to keep a chicken as a pet. Maybe it escaped from somewhere....or maybe it was a cat.
I am sick of chicken. I eat so much of it that it never sounds good to me. I like the taste and all that but it never sounds good any more. Lemon chicken is my favorite. Especially if I don't have to make it. I do make a pretty mean lemon chicken myself but it always tastes better when you don't make it yourself, I think. We had chicken at the last wedding we went to and it was good. It had some kind of little sauce on it but I couldn't tell what it was.
I always loved that Foghorn Leghorn. I know he is a rooster but he fits in my theme a little. He was always so pompous and trying to help out that baby chicken hawk and he always called him Boy. It never failed to make me laugh. He was a one trick pony though, wasn't he? I don't remember him doing much of anything else.
I am pretty much a chicken myself. I don't like taking risks. I have never done any dare devil type things like parachuting or riding a motorcycle. Even when I was young I played it pretty close to the vest. The wild side never held much appeal for me because I was.......(you guessed it) TOO CHICKEN!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment