You know you live in the sticks when your child has a pet chicken.
I heard the door open, shut, and then the sound of footsteps move quietly across the floor. He was whispering, "It's OK sweetie..."
Puzzled, I wondered, "Who could he possibly be talking to?" (certainly not one of his siblings).
To my surprise I found the three-year-old standing in the livingroom holding a chicken. He must have sensed my confusion because he quickly blurted --
"This is Pablo... He's a Mexican chicken.... No, he can't go outside because it's too cold... No, he doesn't want to see his mommy... I don't want to take him outside... I just wanna watch TV..."
And so, the three-year-old and Pablo the Chicken watched Sponge Bob for a time until I finally convinced him to take his feathered friend back to the coop.
Soon after I looked out the window to see the child on the swings (with Pablo in hand) singing at the top of his lungs, "Twinkle twinkle little.... underwear!"
Puzzled, I wondered, "Who could he possibly be talking to?" (certainly not one of his siblings).
To my surprise I found the three-year-old standing in the livingroom holding a chicken. He must have sensed my confusion because he quickly blurted --
"This is Pablo... He's a Mexican chicken.... No, he can't go outside because it's too cold... No, he doesn't want to see his mommy... I don't want to take him outside... I just wanna watch TV..."
And so, the three-year-old and Pablo the Chicken watched Sponge Bob for a time until I finally convinced him to take his feathered friend back to the coop.
Soon after I looked out the window to see the child on the swings (with Pablo in hand) singing at the top of his lungs, "Twinkle twinkle little.... underwear!"
Run Pablo run before you become soup!!
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