I’m a big believer in “things happen for a reason.”
After asking my teen boys, again and again last week to take the recyclables to the recycle center and still finding them overflowing in their basket, on Saturday, Marc and I took the proverbial bull by the horns and did it ourselves. We loaded the car up with cans, bottles, and paper and set off to our local transfer station.
At our recycle center we have an area where town residents can drop off unwanted items in good condition that others might want to use. I try not to look because I always bring home items that are just begging me to give them a good home.
Like a Spock Burger King glass or a Superman graphic book (which are both now at our house.)
But Marc was with me this time and I know how much he dislikes my, um, gathering skills, so I purposefully stayed away.
Until I saw a Foghorn Leghorn that was as big as I am.
Are. You. Kidding me????
Destiny. Sometimes it’s real.
Without even looking at Marc, I grabbed the Foghorn and shoved him into the car.
“Just don’t say anything,” I warned Marc. “I’m only borrowing him. I’ll bring him back when I’m done.”
I brought Foghorn into the house, where first one daughter posed with him.
And then another.
The next morning, though, I discovered that Foghorn had apparently had a wild night at the hen house because this is how I found him. (That fermented grain will get you every time.)
So what are we going to do with a nearly 6 foot Foghorn Leghorn in our lives?
I’m not exactly sure, but I’m confident I’ll be coming up with a few ideas down the road. (hmm, a giant rooster and the road….)
***
Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at [email protected]
Also, join me on Facebook to find out more about the flock (children and chickens) and see some pretty funny chicken jokes, photos of tiny houses, and even a recipe or two.
