The Chicken Story, Part Three

October 9th, 2007

Heaven smiled on me that day and sent a blessed angel to save me from imminent pain. An angel in the form of my Mother.

Just before my Father reached me, my Mother swooped in.

“I’m sorry, Honey,” she said to my enraged Father, “But Heidi has to go get her shots for kindergarten right now.”

Still frozen, I looked sideways at my Mother.

I knew we weren’t really supposed to go until after dinner, but there was no way in Hades I was going to contradict my salvation. So I just kept my mouth shut.

“How about we settle this after we get back?” Mother sweetly suggested, reaching out and taking me by the shoulders.

My Father looked at her and then he looked at me. Finally, he nodded and turned back to the pile of dead chickens.

Practically going limp from relief in my Mother’s arms, I went with her to the car and we immediately drove away.

———–

“So what happened then?” our dinner guests always ask.

“I ended up spending the rest of the night in my room,” I explain, “I considered myself quite lucky, considering what could have happened to me…”

This is when my husband always cuts in.

“Oh, but that’s not the whole story,” Charming smiles that devilish grin again, “Tell them whose chickens they were.”

“Weren’t they your chickens?” the dinner guests ask me.

“Well, some of them were… I found out later that most of them weren’t even ours. We were taking care of them for a lady from church who was out of town,” I grimace.

Clearly enjoying this, Charming continues, “And who had to tell the lady that you killed her chickens?”

I pause, and then finally sigh, “My brother.”

“Her brother! Can you believe that? Heidi kills off this lady’s whole flock of chickens, and her poor brother is the one who has to tell the lady,” my husband exclaims, “Where’s the justice in that?”

“I didn’t know he did that until years later!” I try to defend myself, “He worked for the lady, so I guess my parents just had him tell her when she got back in town. He offered to have us replace her chickens, but she said they were her pets, and you couldn’t replace pets.”

By this time, Charming is howling with laughter and all I can do is shrug.

“Would you like some more chicken?” I offer our guests with an innocent smile.

———–

In homage to those poor creatures who died at my hands over 20 years ago, I post this.

My rubber chicken.

(A poignant gift from my middle school speech teacher who couldn’t stop laughing after he heard this story).

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10 Comments

Rick | 10/10/2007 5:22 am

Heidi,

I got to your blog from Dawn’s and note your comment about my illustration – you’re right – the experiment did go off in an insteresting area. That’s the way the illustration was coming together and I thought – “Hey, it works for me.” Glad you liked it.

Rick @
http://organizeddoodles.blogspot.com/

P.S. Lovely family photos.

 
tearese | 10/10/2007 9:17 am

I sort of understand how you feel. I accidentally killed one of our kittens. I was trying to make him brave by dropping him and another kitten out of our front yard tree. The other kitten was fine, but he got a concussion and died several days later.
I felt especially bad, because no one else knew it was my fault.
I didn’t learn my lesson either, because when we had different kittens later I was tossing them onto my bed from across the room, and one hit the wall and started shaking violently.
I still feel horrible just remembering how stupid I was!
(I also dropped one of my turtles on the floor, causing a break all around his carapice, but that was an accident, and I fixed him with surgical tape and a lot of supervision!

 
Whimsy | 10/10/2007 10:55 am

Lessons learned from reading this post:
Don’t ask Heidi to care for any feathered friends.
Don’t ask Tearese to watch the cats.

And from me – don’t ask me to ever babysit your fish because I was a FISH MURDERER as a child. I thought I was helping our goldfish stay **clean** when I put all the squirts of Yardley of London Lavender Soft Soap into his little fish bowl.

I was hoping for a spring-fresh fish. I got a dead fish.

Cute story!

 
Heidi | 10/10/2007 11:36 am

LOL! You two are killing me! At least you were trying to HELP the animals in some way. I had no pretense for helping them–it was just amusement for myself. :(

Thanks for your awesome comments!

 
Heidi | 10/10/2007 11:38 am

Hi Rick,

Thanks for your comment! Ah, that makes sense about your illustration–thanks for the explanation. I thought it was very clever–well done!

p.s. Everyone else, Rick is referring to a comment I left on the Ebay lady’s blog about her new blog template.

 
tearese | 10/10/2007 1:39 pm

oh yeah, I was wondering who did her new illustration!
Whimsy- I used to hold my grandma’s goldfish outside the water to see how long it would keep moving when it couldn’t ‘breath’. I don’t know if it died after our visit though.

 
The Wife | 10/10/2007 3:34 pm

I can’t believe you killed that poor woman’s chickens.

Clearly you have never read A Girl Named Zippy. I know I tend to obsess about a book for every occasion, but Zippy could teach you a thing or two about chickens. Check it out.

Your husband? Hilarious. And believe me, if the Husband had any stories like that resting peacefully in his closet–I would be all for exploiting them for dinner guests’ entertainment.

MWAHAHAH! Excellent story!

 
Heidi | 10/11/2007 2:51 pm

The Wife–Welcome to my blog and thanks for leaving a comment! I’ve never heard of Zippy nor her chickens. I will have to research that, thanks for the tip! Also, now you’ve got me on the lookout for any good stories Charming has tucked away, thanks for the idea… :)

p.s. Everyone else, The Wife is a good friend of Whimsy’s. I got to The Wife’s blog from Whimsy’s and saw that she’s read “Wives and Daughters” just like me. So, I had to comment about it. :)

Tearese–Wow, kittens, turtles and goldfish… Anymore poor creatures in your past?? :)

 
tearese | 10/11/2007 6:06 pm

um…I was always really nice to ants! When my Grandma tried to spray them in her house, I tried to pick them up one by one and take them outside. Of course, it usually didn’t end well.

 
Heidi | 10/12/2007 12:53 pm

Tearese–Awww, that is very sweet. Reminds me of the worms I used to (and still do, I admit) pick up from the asphalt and put on the grass so they wouldn’t shrivel up in the sun. I also recently saved a slug behind my tire that would’ve gotten squished.

 

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