Don't your friends have a chicken living in their kitchen?
A high energy friend brought one of her chickens into the kitchen so we could watch her lay an egg in the comfort of the house, rather than in the backyard where the chicken might be comfortable, but we'd have to put on sweaters. The chicken took off about four times - one escape was after she looked uncomfortably at the oven for a few minutes - before she was returned to her outside coop.
The chicken in the house idea was spontaneously born after another friend posted a video on Facebook of her chicken laying an egg. I felt somewhat dirty watching the video, as though I was intruding on the chicken's privacy. And no, I don't hang out with a bunch of farmers, although it sounds like it.
I had a brief thought today that instead of putting in some vegetable beds in our backyard, I could put in a chicken coop. I quickly came to my senses, especially after realizing that if our neighbor hates when our leaves fall on his driveway, adding some chicken sounds will push him over the edge.
(Awkward transition here) Later that day I got a feel for what the chicken was thinking as she looked around the kitchen. I went to my OB/GYN for my annual exam when I met the new nurse practitioner he'd hired because the practice is very popular and tends to run way behind, thanks to babies who insist on being born during standard business hours. I chatted with the nurse for a few minutes when she delicately asked if I'd like to wait for the doctor for the exam. After saying that I had no preference, she began the exam. She was great, but I was suddenly stuck by the complete awkwardness of the situation. I just met this person no more than 10 minutes before and now she had her hand up a completely private area. At first I felt weird for myself, but then I felt weird for her. Is this really what she dreamed of doing during nursing school? It was awkward.
The doctor stopped by to chat before I left - and really to chat. He's that kind of guy. Having him as a doctor made me understand women who fall in love with their OBs. When I first met him years ago, he was wearing scrubs, as he has rushed back from the hospital, and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. With his European accent, he explained the scarf was because his throat was feeling a little scratchy, but the entire time, I kept thinking, "Is he gay or merely foreign?" (Just foreign.)
Everyone in our family is a big fan of his and as we talked about him at dinner last night, I said that I loved him. Clover immediately said, "BUT! Are you in love with him?" I said no, asking if she was worried for daddy, as I wondering if I'd suddenly made her question the devotion of her parents to each other, when she said, "No! It's just that one of my friends is in love with another friend, but that person doesn't love her back." Is it sweet that she was worried about my feelings or weird that she disregarded Kevin's presence at the table and how he might feel? Though I do like how she maintained the anonymity of her classmates, for a moment, at least before she told me the specifics. Love is a Battlefield. Even in first grade.