Dead, Naked Chickens...

I have a son who causes me more joy than one person should be allowed to enjoy. He is my most loving, sweet child...and yet he is my child who causes hairs to go kinky and gray.

Yesterday I made a grave error in planning and plotting my day. This became evident when I realized AFTER picking up the kids from school...I had to run by the store (eerie, horror movie music should be envisioned here). This is most certainly NOT a good idea. Not with my kids. After school. When they are tired, hungry and in need of SpongeBob!

I needed some chicken. I had everything at home I needed for dinner--but the chicken. After we enter the store and I throw one child into the buggy and screech that the others should "hold ONTO the buggy", some stoopid clerk gets on the loudspeaker "Attention Shoppers. Santa Claus has just entered the store! Come on by the Photography Lab and have your picture taken with Santa!" It was a conspiracy against me. We drove fast and furiously AWAY from the photo lab. With promises of M&M's when we leave.

Once we are at the meat counter, I'm checking out the boneless, skinless variety. The all breast area. I'm a "boob" girl myself. But Carson has wandered (yep, he took his hands off that buggy!!) down a little further. He's admiring the WHOLE chickens. And then he yells out for all to hear: "Momma!! You have GOT to come here!! These chickens are DEAD! AND NAKED!!"

I am most certain that the entire meat department went home and told this story. How do I know?? I left them laying on the floor, legs in the air...holding their sides, laughing their butts off. I hope they all had dead, naked chicken for dinner too.

PS: Carson ate Frosted Flakes...he doesn't like chicken, unless it's in 'nugget' form.