I was at the grocery store yesterday and something happened that both annoyed me and cracked me up all at the same time.
This is a true story.
And it involves Little Chickens.
As I was walking past a deep freezer bin, I saw two children under 9 years old tossing around frozen packages of Cornish Game Hens.
Their discombobulated Mother was preoccupied with selecting cheese for her family and didn’t seem to notice her little hoodlums playing a game of catch with the frozen meat.
The older child, a girl of about 9 kept saying, “Look Mom! Little Chickens!” as she tossed the rock solid frozen meat across the deep freezer bin.
Finally after about the 3rd or 4th time, the exhausted Mother, looking as if she had just returned from milking a cow and making her own cheese, finally acknowledged her creatively athletic offspring tossing the frozen birds and said, “Stop that! Leave the chickens alone!” and then with an audible sigh, turned her weary shoulders to focus on the pressing need for cheese once again.
I continued walking past, trying not to laugh out loud, as both kids tried to revive their cheese traumatized Mother by continuing to toss the poor frozen birds around the freezer bin and thoroughly enjoying their entertaining game while calling out,
“Look Mom! It’s Little Chickens!”
