Some how Red managed to rip a hole in her favorite jacket. After last year’s adventure of having to stitch up her butt, I keep a sewing kit handing for these rare occasions.


KC: Oh, did you raise chickens for eggs or milk?

Me: …you can’t milk a chicken

KC: Cow, I mean COW.

Me: Cows don’t lay eggs

Red: And Chickens don’t have nipples.  …this sounds like a scene from “Meet the Parents”. You know the one where they’re all sitting around the dinner table and Robert De Niro says, “I have nipples Greg, could you milk me?”


Me: So, to answer the question you were trying to ask, yes we raised chickens for eggs and Sunday dinner.

KC: Ew, really? Did you have to, you know, kill them?

Me: I had to watch. It was part of my Dad’s survival training. I also learned how to skin Thumper.

KC: That’s so gross!

Me: …I tried to alleviate my guilt by knitting all the chicken’s sweaters to keep them warm in the winter.