chicken!

Today I saw a man.

And this, by itself, is not at all noteworthy. But when you combine it with the fact that he was wearing something on his head that made him look like a chicken and he was playing an accordion, well now you can see why I’d want to write this down.

I think he was trying to make some money, as he was playing on a street corner in center city Philadelphia. And God bless the heat for not being quite so terrible today. The day landed at a cool 86 degrees this afternoon and it must have been very appreciated by this man I have described because that chicken head looked like the kind of chicken head that does not do well in 105 degree weather.

And speaking of chickens, did you know that there was a year in my childhood in which we ate chicken for dinner every single night? Ask any of us kids, and we will tell you that by the second month or so, it was just awful. Ask either of my parents, and they will tell you that by the second month of so, we were just awful.

Because see, we’d complain about that chicken. We were like Miss Hannigan singing about Little Girls, except we were kids and we’d sing a lamenting ballad that may or may not be a little inappropriate when she references men and how she’d like them to nibble on her and goodness, but isn’t this Annie? Isn’t this just a kid’s musical?! But right, we were kids and were we given a ballad to sing, it’d be about chickens because every where we looked, they were there.

And we had to eat them.

And guess what I’ve never ever, not once!, ordered at a restaurant? That’s right: a chicken dinner.

But I have ordered peanut butter and jelly at Potbellys, something for which I’ve been made fun of. We were passing by the restaurant and I blurted out to my friends that I loved Potbellys; that they make great PB&J’s! and well, I guess that is not normal fare to order from a restaurant.

But I was never forced to eat PB&J every day of my life for a whole year, and therefore I can order it happily and of my own volition.

Still, I know. At least we had parents and at least they fed us and really, we shouldn’t have been awful at all. We should have been grateful.

So thanks, mom and pop. For all that chicken. For alllllllllll that chicken. It was a lot of protein and meals and sustenance, but mostly?

It was a lot.

Of chicken.