I present to you: a giant chicken statue. I kind of love it. I couldn’t tell you how big it is, because it’s been a while since I paid much attention to it, but it’s definitely taller than a person, if that tells you anything. There are spotlights on it at night, too, which is equally awesome.
And since I’m talking about chickens, I may as well share the fact that I made another Pinterest low-fat chicken recipe. This one. I’m not sure what I think about it. I loved the honey mustard, but thought the cornflakes were weird. Wilbur, on the other hand, loved the cornflakes but thought the honey mustard was weird. What I want to know is what happened to good old-fashioned Shake ‘n’ Bake? Oh wait – apparently it still exists! Why am I dragging my chicken through crushed Ritz crackers and corn flakes and, quite possibly very soon, crushed pretzels, when I know I used to like shake n bake? I should probably read some nutritional info on this.
In other news, Cubbie bear took a few unassisted steps today! This kid is growing up insanely fast. Also, I’m typing this from my bed, because Cubbie is napping and Bear is next to me, watching YouTube videos of Thomas toy trains. They are his addiction, like mine to Breaking Bad. I’m so lazy during rest times like these that I put him in a pull-up because I don’t want to have to get up to help him with the potty (or worse, get up to change my sheets).
Also, I feel like I did the chicken story a real disservice by typing it in pieces and when tired. Did y’all miss the part about the alleged painting of the swastika on the chicken coop?? Or the fact that they might be playing recorded chicken sounds? Those are my two favorite aspects of the story. Also, is it crazy that I’ve been thinking about calling Mr. and Mrs. Turquoise and asking if they want to get our dogs together? (They have a puppy, and my dog looks longingly at him when I let him out to do his business.) (On the other hand, it’s freaking freezing around these parts lately, and I don’t have the fortitude for an outside play date of any kind, so maybe not…)
On that random note, I’m off to snooze. Or read. Or play my Scrabble turns.