chicken – Mother, Inc

To kill a mocking bird

June 30, 2009

big bird.jpg

I know I’m going to incur the wrath of bird lovers out there, but I’m going to say it anyway. I HATE BIRDS, THEY’RE EVIL AND MEAN AND DESERVE TO BE EATEN. I suppose some birds are ok, like chickens, which are juicy and succulent and taste good fried. But most birds are evil. They’ve got sharp beaks and beady eyes (that look like they’re mocking you all the time) and flappy feathers. Worst of all, they steal food and crap all over the place.

I’ve never been particularly fond of birds, but we’ve got this mutual understanding that we’ll keep to our own territories and maintain a truce. They agree not to crap on my head and in return, I won’t poison them with arsenic and rip off their bony legs one by one. But recently, they’ve broken the treaty and now it’s time for war.

Ever since I moved in to my new place, they’ve made it a daily routine to perch their evil asses outside my kitchen window squawking away making a nuisance of themselves. Then they got bolder and started stealing leftover food. And if that wasn’t enough, they’ve been leaving little piles of poop on my stove, table and sink. Now on top of cleaning my kid’s poop, I’ve got to clean bird poop as well.

So this morning, I was cooking Tru’s lunch and this bird flew in right under my nose to try to steal his food. The shock from the sneak attack led to a muscle spasm and I ended up flicking up a whole ladle of boiling porridge right onto my arm. I think subconsciously, I was aiming it at the bird, but somehow it landed on my hand and cooked it, so now it’s all red and swollen.

The bird must have thought it was hilarious, because after that, it was sitting outside my window squawking its head off.

Like I said, I hate birds. They deserve to die. I’ve tried putting stuff at the window to scare them away but they’re way to smart for that. I’ve also set booby traps like poisoned food to kill them, but so far, it’s not working. And it’s driving me insane.

Seriously, if you know of a way to get rid of the birds, do me a favor and let me know. I promise I’ll make it quick and painless and I’ll also try not to relish every moment of it.

by Daphne

kids inc

The Low-Down on Chow-Down

March 10, 2009

The way I see it, when it comes to eating, there are three kinds of kids. The chickens, the hamsters and the sharks (pardon the analogy, it’s an occupational hazard).

The chickens are the colossally picky eaters. They’re not particularly fond of food and eating is merely for sustenance. They’re usually fine with french fries and ice-cream, but the moment you bring on the broccoli and peas, they’ll grab their heads and retch.

But you gotta give it to them, they’ve got an arsenal of vomit faces to convey their immense displeasure, ranging from “looking at this pile of goo makes my head throb” to “I’d rather die than swallow that”.
bleahh

Then there are the hamsters. They keep the food in their mouths like they’re storing up for winter and refuse to swallow. It would seem like they are eating a lot, since each mealtime takes an average of 3 hours. By the time they’re done with breakfast, it’s about time for lunch. And so on.

In fact, every day is like a never-ending meal punctuated with food of different temperatures.
built-in food pouches

Finally, there are the sharks. They’re the kind that grabs life by the horns and eats right through them. They eat anything and everything. It’s like feeding a bottomless pit, and they seem to be hungry all the time. When the food is too slow or too little, they bang their little hands and scream bloody murder.

“Give me food!” is their battle-cry, and when it doesn’t come, they know how to improvise.

Tru, he’s definitely a shark, and a pretty enterprising one at that. His favorite move is what I like to call the I’m-starving-please-feed-me-look, complete with doleful eyes and half-pout (surprisingly effective). When that fails, he progresses to the hand-banging and screaming (also surprisingly effective).

Recently, he’s acquired a new tactic. The sneak attack. When he know it’s something he can’t eat, (like cookies or chocolate) he’ll act all innocent and sneak up on you when you’re least expecting it. Then with one swift bite, he’ll grab the food right out from your hands and smirk like he’s real pleased with himself.

“Take that, mama!”

Then I look at the chickens and hamsters and I’m actually glad that I’ve got a shark.

by Daphne