Playing Chicken

Eldest Granddaughter (hereinafter known as EGD) and I were standing beside the guinea pig cages at the local pet store.

We had made faces at the fish.

Chirped and squawked at the birds.

And had now started down the ‘furry’ aisle.

“Did you know that Gramma can talk to guinea pigs?” I asked her.

Wide-eyed, she looked at me. “You can?!”

I nodded. “Watch.” I proceeded to imitate the low-to-high-pitched squeak common to the modern short-legged furry.

“Squee-eeek! Squee-eeek!”

It sounds more convincing than it looks.

Moving on . . .

The little furries in the cage began to react. Kicking their feet and running about.

EGD, mouth open, again looked at me. “You’re amazing, Gramma!”

Hey. I’ll take it where I can get it.

“Great Grampa could talk to chickens.”

Again, that wide-eyed stare. “Really?”

“Yes. He said if you listen really hard, you can understand what they are saying. Especially after they’ve laid an egg.”

“They’re saying stuff?”

“Yep. But you have to listen really hard.”

Sceptical frown. Then, “What are they saying, Gramma?”

I smiled. “Look-look-look-look-look-look-what-I-did!”

Listen closely next time you see a chicken.

Great Grampa was right.

There is a lot of 'stuff' going on in the world.

You won't find any of it here.

I want this blog to be a little oasis of peace and good humour.

Thank you for visiting!