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Itsalotta Chicken (standard:humor, 3779 words)
Author: Reid LaurenceAdded: Mar 02 2007Views/Reads: 1880/1132Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
What about the food we eat? Is it safe? What's all that processed stuff doing to our bodies anyway? Read on and find out...
 



“Hey Mary!” I announced, on my arrival home from the grocery store. “I
just got back from the ‘Price Gouger' babe, an look what I found 
would'ya!” 

“Oh no... you didn't buy more chicken did you?” answered my wife, upset
at the thought of yet another, chicken dinner. 

“Don't you worry my swan, this is gonna be different, you'll see. I got
a sweet n' sour Chinese flavor packet from the ‘Jolly Green Ogre' and 
I'm gonna make you an the kids somethin' you'll never forget.” 

“I bet,” replied my ungrateful sounding spouse. “Just don't make us sick
like last night. How many weeks in a row do we have'ta eat chicken, 
anyway? Am I wrong, or are we going on six weeks?” 

“Now Mary, don't start on me again. I go to a lot of trouble to get you,
me, Natalie and Ellie in shape and all you do is ridicule me. Any other 
wife would appreciate my effort, I'm sure.” 

“I would if you didn't keep buying that awful brand, ‘Itsalotta
Chicken'. You know they load those poor birds with growth hormones and 
steroids, but you still go on buying it. I just don't get it. Why do 
you, anyway?” 

“Honey lamb, get real,” I told her. “Where else can I get a ten pound
chicken for seven dollars! That's only seventy cents a pound! It's 
almost like living in the sixties again when we were mere babies.” 

“Oh, do what you want,” I remember her saying. “You always seem to
anyway. There doesn't seem to be anything I can say that will stop you. 
But haven't you ever wondered how in the world they get those chickens 
to weigh in at ten pounds? Did you think that was normal? Just do me 
one favor, would you?” 

“What's that pumpkin?” 

“Shave before dinner, would'ya? I'm not into the unkempt look.” 

“But I only just shaved this morning my dove. How could I be looking
scraggy already?” 

“Look in the mirror then if you don't believe me,” she chided. And as I
turned to get a look at my own familiar image in the large mirror on 
the dining room wall, I had to admit that she was right... but how, I 
thought? How had I already grown back the hair on my face, when I'd 
only just hours before shaved? But before I could respond, I'd noticed 
something else in the mirror that I couldn't explain, and posed the 
following question to her... “Mary,” I began. “Have you grown? I swear, 
you look taller to me then you did only yesterday. Is that possible?” 

“Don't be silly,” she remarked. “That's not possible. I'm a grown adult
and have been for years. How could I ever continue growing at this 
stage in life? You're joking me, right?” 

“Oh well,” I said. “You're probably right. It must be my imagination
working overtime. Why don't you watch some tube, while I start dinner? 
You'll see,” I pointed out. “There's nothing like a low fat, low carb 
meal like sweet n' sour chicken to end a stressful day.” But even as I 
finished speaking, I couldn't help but wonder about the strange things 
I'd seen in the mirror just moments before. Things I couldn't readily 
explain away as the natural forces of nature would have allowed. It was 
only my hunger which prevailed over my contemplative mood then, and put 
my idle hands to the task of preparing that nights evening meal. 

The talk at the dinner table that night was much as it had been for
quite some time, beginning of course, with our two daughters chattering 
away, complaining as usual about the great number of chicken dinners 
we'd been consuming lately, when suddenly I heard a loud and 
unmistakable... “Dad!” which had come from my eldest daughter, as she 
simultaneously tossed her fork into her dish. “What is going on with 
you?” she asked abruptly. “I'm sick of chicken already. Can't you just 
once make burgers or something? I'll eat anything already, as long as 
it isn't chicken again.” 

“She's right dad,” responded Ellie, who sat opposite me at the far end


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