Swinging Chickens

17-04-2014 Maundy Thursday

Easter is just around the corner and for some strange reason I’ve been seeing chickens everywhere all day. I walk into the living room and Mum’s watching a programme on chickens (please, don’t ask me why). I accidentally turn on the radio when I wanted to listen to a CD and what do I hear (no, not chickens, but close),’Chicken in the bread pan picking out dough’. When I went out to walk Cheddar I bumped into Unice and she was wearing an oversized T-shirt with a picture of a chicken on it that’s putting up a missing poster. The text on the poster said,’ Have you seen these eggs?’ Either Unice has really gone round the bend or she just can’t put on any other clothes because of her burnt hands.
I asked her how she was doing, although I must admit that I tried to get away unnoticed at first and at second I tried to get away noticed but unspoken to … I failed … horribly. Unice didn’t look happy to see me so I tried a joke on her that I picked up from somebody at school. I said,’ Hey, Unice, you dropped your smile.’ Then I reached for the ground and pretended to pick up the ‘smile’ and as I wanted to give it to her, she looked at me and said,’ That’s not mine.’ And she walked away just like that. I guess she was right, it wasn’t hers; hers probably fled the country a long, long time ago.
Talking about fleeing the country, I’d like to get out of here, too. Mum invited Grandma over for Easter. She must be hopping mad. I told her I wasn’t going to dye any eggs again with Grandma, I feel that I’ve outgrown that a little, though some say you’re never too old for these kinds of things. I am sure that one day I’ll have reached a certain age in which things like that will become fun again because they bring back such good memories, but that day has not come yet and probably won’t come for at least another twenty or so years. I’ll settle for some Dairy Eggs this year. Maybe I should call Grandma and tell her to bring some. On the other hand, she messed up my birthday present as well. She’ll probably bring a live chicken.
If she does bring a chicken I am going to perform Kapparot, even though I am not Jewish. For those of you who have never heard of this, it means that I am going to swing this chicken over my head three times. Mind you, don’t swing it once, don’t swing it twice, in order to have them sins transfer to the chicken one has to swing it three times! It has to be a real chicken, though I am not sure whether the chicken has to be a live at the moment of swinging. Afterwards the chicken is slaughtered and donated to the poor. But I think it’s kind of cruel to give poor people my sins for dinner. So I guess we’ll be eating the chicken ourselves.
Anyways, Mum used Grandma as an excuse to decorate the house Easter style, which meant chickens! Chickens everywhere! First thing Dad said when he came home from and saw all those decorations was,’ I can see Darles Chickens has been here. Let me guess, Grandma is coming?’ I told him it wasn’t too late to flee the country. We might even run into Unice’s smile along the way. Dad gave it some serious thought, and he said he would sleep on it. All of this probably means I’m going to be up all night, because Mum and Dad will be having some arguments in the bedroom followed by some loud make up you know what. See me tomorrow (with bags under my eyes, probably). 

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Swinging Chickens

  1. ‘Hey, Unice, you’ve dropped your smile.’
    ‘That’s not mine.’
    That definitely made ME smile.
    Maybe you should replace your window happy face with a picture of a chicken.

    • Dear Mum,

      I was thinking the exact same thing, but I was kind of in two minds about it. But I will definitely change it into a chicken this Sunday. Thank you for reading once again.

      Kindest of regards,

      Arthur

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s