Had a chicken in the house yesterday. Nope…not even kidding! It makes a little more sense when I mention that the girls’ bedroom windows don’t have screens. That is where common sense seems to stop in this story. The room needed airing, the chickens happen to be roaming the yard and with a bit of encouragement might have found the window sill.
Giggles and running feet through the house are common around here, BUT STILL. Come on Tammy! Get a clue. I was a bit baffled by the extra excitement when I heard the loud clucking. Come to find out the chicken had been in their room for quite some time, the girls weren’t sure how to tell me and rather enjoyed the guest.
I came unglued.
What does any self-respecting grown woman do when a chicken is found in her house? Send her eleven year old son in to “JUST TAKE CARE OF IT!”
My eleven year old is very smart. I had visions of him shooing the darling bird right back out the window from which she came. When asked later why he didn’t do that…..”I just wasn’t thinking, mom.”
I was sitting in the living room trying to remain calm wondering how much poop would need to be cleaned up when my son walks through the very same living room holding the now upset chicken flapping its wings as if she was trying to take off for the moon.
What does a self-respecting grown woman do when a chicken is in her living room flapping and flinging feathers? Why scream, of course! Which, if you are wondering, would make the chicken flap more and cause your valiant eleven year old to jump while trying to open the back door.
I sat thinking about posting this story and wondered how I could tie some great truth and meaning to the absurdity of my day. Surely I could learn something about being a Christian, about parenting, adoption or the Bible.
Can’t think of a thing…well, except I’m glad I wasn’t Noah’s wife.
Basically, I try to let you all believe that I am a put together pastor’s wife whose children are angels due to my magnificent skills as a homeschooler and homesteader. (Having chickens makes me feel like a homesteader.) I might not play the piano or be prim and proper, but I like to think that I do the family thing pretty darn well.
I screamed at a chicken loud enough to make my two year old cry!!!
If I were keeping score (which you are not, but I am) then I could say that I haven’t killed anyone or any birds yet. Only by the grace of God. This parenting thing isn’t for the faint of heart. Some days it is hard. I read books about getting my kids to eat their veggies. There was never a chapter on how to get your kids not to play with chickens in the house.
Chicken day = not the best day in the parenting camp. Thankfully tomorrow is a fresh day with new grace.