Demented Turkey Chickens

I was in betty homemaker mode today. I whipped up cupcakes for the kids, frosted & sprinkled in rainbow monkey sprinkles, I threw flour in the bread machine for pizza dough, add in the normal laundry, dishes and some quilting and TADA! Work is less exhausting. I have no idea why I bothered to make cupcakes, the little ones came out of school lugging backpacks filled with junk. If I’d thought of it I would’ve gotten the camera earlier when daughter showed off her remarkable ability to hold FOUR lollipops in her mouth at once. What ever happened to conversation hearts?

Obviously after all that sugar the kids needed to get out. Luckily middle child had left his skateboard at his friends house, this gave me an excuse to get them all out for a walk over to fetch said skateboard. Actually getting them out burned up at least 15 minutes of frantic running around looking for skateboards, bikes and helmets. Only the girlfriend and I literally walked. Or jogged. It was definitely more jogging to keep up with the bikers & skateboarders.

We were barely around the corner when excitement struck. “Ducks!” “Geese!” “Turkeys!” All of the guesses were wrong as a trio of extremely large quail darted out to greet us. They came so close I told eldest to grab one for dinner. I was serious. He didn’t get that and gently tried to pet one. Then squareboy swooped in for the kill on his bike and they scattered like mad… with him whooping & hollering and riding after them like a mad man. That boy.

He caught back up to us soon after, cheeks red from cold & excitement; “Did you see the turkey chickens!?!” Um, ‘turkey chickens’? Quail my boy, quail. “No, no Mom! They were demented turkey chickens.” After about 5 minutes I realized he meant domestic turkey chickens. Still not quail, but a little more understandable a mistake. That boy.

It really was a day. Crossing the big road, a two-lane highway really, a truck passed by as we waited patiently alongside the road. He honked, we waved and the girlfriend squealed “oh NO! A chicken truck!” I started laughing because of the turkey chickens. Then the smell hit me. Chicken trucks suck. Daughter buried her face in my hair “Oh your hair smells so good mommy, let me smell it some more.” We couldn’t cross the road fast enough. Run far enough, get away from that smell fast enough. Now we know why the chicken crossed the road. To get away from it’s own chicken shit smell.

Oh! It was Valentines day today. The dad bought the daughter her first diamond ring. He’s competitive.