Friday, April 18, 2008

I hate chickens


I think chickens are stupid. I especially think this one is stupid.


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Felicia the chicken is especially stupid.  Felicia is my sister, she’s a chicken, and she’s stupid.

Felicia was the first chicken my mother adopted. Because of Felicia, our (and I hate saying our) mother adopted 4 more stupid chickens, making it a grand total of 6 new stupid chicken sisters. 

By the way, chickens can’t do that kind of math because they’re, wait for it, stupid.  Their names are Felicia, Fattie, Zebra Girl, Red, and Natalie.

We all compete for our mother's affection.  Those stupid chickens have squirmed their stupid chicken selves into our mother's heart.  Currently if any of our mother's co-workers ask how her daughter is doing, she asks them to specify which species they're inquiring about.




Those stupid chickens and their stupid tricks. I know they laugh at me behind my back since they think I’ve got nothing on them.  Opposable thumbs people!!


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"Did you fly and catch a piece of bread out of our mother's hand?"
or "Did you squeeze an incredible, edible egg out of your bottom today?"

I turn back around and yell "NO! But I dropped my screaming kids off so she could babysit them for a few hours! She just eats your kids, so (insert raspberry)!" This reminds them that chickens don't have tongues.



Whenever I notice Fattie showing off, I mutter under my breath so only she can hear "Yeah Fattie, it takes real skill to jump 1 foot in the air."  Fattie thinks she's flying; I quickly remind her that stupid chickens can't fly, and since she's a stupid chicken, she can't fly. Sometimes to keep Fattie in check, I'll bring over a tub of KFC and eat it in front of her, slowly, while maintaining eye contact. 


Then there’s stupid Natalie.


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Stupid Natalie can't stand the sight of me, so whenever I come over, she hides her face in the bushes, only allowing me to see her back tail. She tells me it's because my smell aggravates her hay fever.  It’s called soap Natalie, try it sometime.  But I know the real reason. She's just sooooo jealous of me. Yeah, she's so jealous she can't stand the sight of me.  I tend to hug her our mother a bit more often when Natalie’s around as a reminder that a chicken can't hug their mom.

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"YES NATALIE! I'M STILL HERE!" 


Sadly though, the odds aren't in my favor. There are 5 of them and one of me. On our mother's birthday, they all like to get together and pool their chicken money and buy one big expensive gift, while on my own I have to outwit and outspend those stupid chickens. I threatened to call CPS (Chicken Protective Services) to file a false report of excessive pecking.  Then they’d have to be farmed out (farmed out, get it?) to other coops for a few days until the matter is resolved. 


And do you see what's going on here?

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The girls retaliate by talking to my kids.  "Question the boy, and then we can REALLY screw with her head," Zebra girl says to Fattie.
So Fattie acts all loving and motherly and says "Ohhhh booooyyyyy! Come here boy! Be a good boy and come here to Fattie! Oh, that's a good boy. You are just sooooo cute boy! Does your mother tell you that boy? Does she tell you what a good boy you are? What's that boy.........she doesn't? She yells at you and calls you a tird? Boy, come here to Fattie and tell me all about it. Now, boy, in order for me to help mommy not yell at you anymore, Fattie needs to know if mommy has any self-esteem issues we can exploit. She does? What are they boy? Ohhhh, she doesn't like her toes, does she? Oh, that's a riot boy! You're such a good boy for telling me. Now boy, don't tell mommy we had this little chat, okay? That's a good boy."

So then Fattie goes and tells Red what their nephew told her and they hatch (hatch, ha ha) a plan to provoke me.


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"Oh, hey Jaylee, hey, whew! We didn't see you up there," they say, bumping into me on purpose, trying to act breezy.
"How's the weather up there?" Red asks.

"Hello Red and Fattie, how are you both today?" I ask them civilly, because I really do try.


What I really want to ask is "So, you ever wonder what's really in those 11 herbs and spices?" Someday.

"So, ummmmm, I like your shoes Jaylee, are they new?" Red asks.


"Yes, they're new, why?"

"No reason, just that it seems a shame to get them all yucked up in the backyard. You never know what you'll step on out here. Between our feathers and feces, you could really get yourself into a pickle, and then you'll ruin your new shoes!" Fattie says.


Red interjects, "Yeah, Jaylee, maybe you want to take off your shoes so you don't ruin them. That way if you step in something, you can just rinse off your feet instead of having to throw away your super neat new pair of shoes. You can be cool like us; we don't wear shoes." As tears are streaming down her stupid chicken beak, she lays an egg from the strain of not laughing.


"No thanks, I'm good," I say, still not sure what's going on.


"Okay, but if it's because you're embarrassed of your toes.........." and Red can't even finish her sentence for fear of a chicken heart attack

Fattie's wing is covering her mouth as she feigns a coughing fit, and Natalie, who overheard the entire conversation, is laughing her head off while her nose is still stuck inside a bush.


I hate those stupid chickens.

Look at their stupid house.


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It has diamond windows.  I NEVER got two diamond shaped windows with chicken wire stapled to them. Mine were just plain square ones with a screen. Those stupid chickens are spoiled.


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I ALWAYS make sure they see me take their stupid chicken eggs home with me. I sadistically laugh and say "I'm gonna go home now and make myself a daughter and son omelet!"



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Our mother has no idea her children squabble amongst each other. We make certain she is witness only to our politely strained conversations about the current price of oil. But our bickering begins as soon as he turns her back, and then they tackle me and attempt to peck my eyeballs out, as I reach into my back pocket to pull out my retractable cleaver.


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This is the only moment of peace I get after visiting with my "sisters" (gag). I kick them away from the door and shove it closed on their chicken lips.

I hate those stupid chickens.

11 comments:

Heather said...

why oh why did you wait so long to start writing publicly?! You really are funny Jaylee, and it's not just because I like you!

I would start to feel nerdy if I always commented with "You crack me up", but it is the truth!

H said...

Oh my heck what a funny little story! You could publish it right along side Mo Wilem's book, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. I'm tellin' ya, I know children's lit!

Does the chicken lady give tours or are they self-guided? Love the coop, did you help paint it ?!

Jaylee Draney said...

Heather - I like you to! And, for fear of sounding like an idiot, I don't but should comment on your blog that you put me to shame you crafty genious!

H - I just spoke to the crazy chicken lady herself, and she said that tours are always available to the public. Plus, she would very much appreciate a chance to mention the redeeming qualities of her other children. For instance, one of them won a blue ribbon at the state fair, but I kinda think her chicken was the only entry in the catagory, but nonetheless, she won. And of course I didn't help paint those stupid chicken's coop! My mother lovingly did that.

Ed and Bel said...

Sounds like someone has a case of the only child syndrome, they are just chickens. You can always call them “Food Storage.”

Sara said...

I don't know Jaylee. The chickens seem like a lot of fun...I might start hanging out with them instead of you. Maybe I'll get some free eggs. ;-)

Jaylee Draney said...

Belinda - yes, being an only child for 29 years has definately shaped my opinion of those stupid chickens.

Sara - how about some free chickens? Sometimes there are holes the pop up around the perimeter of the lawn, and who knows what can get in or out......

Ed and Bel said...

Don't you mean 30 years?!?

Monique said...

You failed to mention you had sisters, and here we thought you were an only child.

But...they are definitely the ugly chicken faced step-sisters.

Keep a look out for Asher, I hear they know hypnosis

Gina said...

OMIGOSH!! Someone has chicken envy! You know vegetarians would have a hay day with that entry. They'd picket outside of your house. I can't believe you took the time to write that. It's 5 minutes of my life I will never get back. :)

Diana said...

I hear chickens are VERY self-conscious when they're molting...not that I'm getting involved in a family issue...I just thought it was an interesting fact....

Jenny W said...

Wow. That's all I can think of to say. And that your blog continues to be my favorite!