My nephew loved his chickens. He fed and watered them. He was a good chicken owner.
There was one ever so small problem. He was the only one who could see them.
When we would all go to the mall we usually met at a little restaurant there for a quick lunch before we went home.
My nephew would seat himself and pull his chickens from his pocket. Then he would sprinkle salt from the shaker onto the table. He would open a small container of coffee creamer. His chickens had food and water.
We always left a good tip. We still worried about the extra mess waitresses had to clean after he gathered his chickens to take them home. They said they did not mind because they enjoyed the chickens too.
The restaurant also had a nice children's dessert. It was a dish containing one scoop of ice cream, candies to make a clown face, and an ice cream cone for a hat.
My nephew cried because he would not eat a clown. The waitresses had learned this so they served all the ingredients in separate dishes. He happily ate it all that way.
But what happened to the chickens?
One day while playing in my mother's back yard my nephew decided to show the chickens to his cousin (my niece). She looked at them with interest. Suddenly she snatched them and noisily ate them all!
His chickens were gone. I guess he did not want to take a chance with new ones.
thecontemplativecat here. what an interesting boy! I would love to know what happened after the slaughter and eating.
ReplyDeleteHe was horrified. He never had chickens again.
DeleteHe has a good imagination, lots of fun.
ReplyDeleteHe kept us laughing for a long time.
DeletePretty neat they existed for both the children.
ReplyDeleteI never thought of that. Perfectly normal for our family.
DeleteI have heard of imaginary friends but never imaginry chickens. My chickens were all to real. I had to feed and water them, gather eggs for my mother, dodge an aggressive rooster, and watch my dad slaughter them from time to time for our dinner. When that happened I would dip them in hot water and rid them of their feathers. My dad would clean out their insides and my mother would fry their parts in a skillet. I think I would have enjoyed imaginary chickens more.
ReplyDeleteall to real = all too real
DeleteWhen I was a child my mother sold dressed chickens to pick up extra money. I helped of course. I am the best gizzard cleaner in the country.
Deletei must say it was so amusing to read this one
ReplyDeletei smiled and chuckle :)
your nephew was wonderful kid for sure
hugs and best wishes
He is still wonderful even though he is not so young and has children of his own. And they are all grown!
ReplyDeleteFunny story about your nephew and his chickens, Emma, and even more humorous to read about their demise at the hand of his cousin!
ReplyDelete