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|Itsalotta Chicken (standard:humor, 3779 words)|
|Author: Reid Laurence||Added: Mar 02 2007||Views/Reads: 1880/1132||Story 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 Click here to read the rest of this story (328 more lines)
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