Saturday, October 3, 2009

Eat the Chicken

















You know it's love when he makes you take the Nyquil even when you complain of the taste, just like one of the kids. It really does taste horrible but I slept like a log. Michael successfully deposited Sierra at her babysitting course at the hospital and accompanied Kenny to his soccer game with nothing but moaning for my part. Eventually I woke up.

“Mom! Mom! What’s for lunch??”

Feverish. Shivering. Please leave me alone. Don’t they know better? Somewhere in the distance I hear Michael say, “Eat the chicken”.

I roll over, mind drifting. I imagine we have chickens. Like the Hopkins down the street. Like the Prices with their raccoon troubles. In my feverish mind I know I have to butcher one of these chickens so the kids can have lunch. I think about how to catch one. Do I wring its neck or chop it off? I imagine a stump where the tree must’ve been but the only hatchet that comes to mind is Josh’s plastic one from the dollar store. Could I wring a chicken’s neck? Also, don’t I need to scald it to get the feathers off? And gut it. Even a chicken from the store is something I’m not particularly deft at cutting up properly. And what if they’re like Michael and won’t eat it off the bone? I’m so confused. And asleep.

I wake later to hear Michael Jr. complaining about his Home and Family assignment. He put off the pinning and sewing of his apron until the last minute and now he’s got to work on it. But he’s not sure what to do. His dad is even less sure. I want to say “seam gauge” and “5/8th inch” but I only mumble. I’m making no sense to even myself.

“Panchito’s in my bed and he has green slime all over him!”

Josh is next to me and I immediately realize what I’ve been smelling. Pert Plus. Oh please let someone else handle this. All I want to do is eat a bowl of posole and crawl back into bed. In no particular order. I have the minestrone we didn’t eat last night but it’s not the same.


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4 comments:

  1. I am sorry that you are feeling so under the weather. How did Sierra like the babysitting class? Marissa had it last week and she loved it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Michael did eat the chicken. I did help him with the seam!

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  3. I have to admit it looked like a giant diaper sitting on the table like that. Which didn't make sense at all.
    Nooooow I get it.

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