A little over a decade ago my then 5 year old daughter and I were tooling around the neighborhood. She was in her usually pensive state when, from out of nowhere, the following verbal exchange took place.
“Dad, are Chicken and Chicken spelled the same?”
“HUH?” (both eyebrows arched)
“Are Chick-en…… and Chic-ken spelled the same?” (with strained emphasis)
“Well, yeah(with Duh intonation)! It’s the same word.” (one eyebrow arched)
“No Dad! I mean Chicken the animal(paused for effect)….. and Chicken the food. Are they spelled the same?”
“I, I, …. don’t understand?????” (eyes crinkled, looking at her suspiciously)
“OH just forget it Dad!” (5 year old huffing)
This verbal ping-pong was repeated several times and the exasperation was growing on both sides when the proverbial light bulb snapped on. It was close to dinner anyway, and my wife was not going to be able to eat dinner with us that night. I spun the car around and backtracked 4 blocks to the Kentucky Fried Chicken we had just passed earlier (this was probably the culprit that caused the whole problem anyway).
I walked in the establishment, purchased a bucket family meal and we headed home.
(Moody silence in the car for the whole 5 blocks home.)
As soon as we got home we set the table and “Professor Mike” went to work (Read Ripples in a pond. I do this visual crap all the time). I printed out a picture of a live chicken, dumped out the bucket’s contents and went on to say – “Here are the chicken’s legs, also known as DRUMSTICKS. Here are the thighs and breasts and wings…….” I re-assembled the fowl, piece by piece, sans neck, head and feet.
It was like watching a cartoon as she went through several different phases and faces. First came Awe – Ooooh cool, an edible puzzle, then Shock – Dad was right!, then Disgust – I’ve been eating dead animals!. I had a hard time making her eat dinner that night. She sat and stared at her plate for a looooong time. She wouldn’t even eat edges of the mashed potatoes that had touched the chicken.
This is one of those cute family stories that gets resurrected every few months. We still have a good ol’ chuckle over this from time to time.
Just imagine, it could have been:
“Dad? Are Co-w and C-ow spelled the same?”
“WHAT!”………..
Sounds familiar. My 12-year-old likes to bring this up at the table sometimes to my younger kids…”Do you know you’re eating a dead pig right now?” Lovely.
@Karen C.,
I didn’t do it to gross her out, but I see what you mean.
The other day I had to explain to my son that the Shepherds pie we were having for dinner was actually venison. He wasn’t too thrilled, but ate it anyway. I guess as long as it wasn’t “German Shepherd” Pie right?
Dead pig tastes good!
i love coming to this blog. it makes me realize that it isn’t just my kids! i’m always walking around in a state of “HUH?”
and…i’m cracking up because, my 4 year old, literally, asked me this morning if “bits” and “bitch” are the same thing. i think i just stared at him and shook my head in disbelief.
oh, those crazy kids!
DOH! Time for a sh*t filter.
I’ve had to resort to “Cheeze and Rice”, “Sunny Beaches”, “Dag Nab IT”, or “Oh My Dog”, but no matter how much feeling you put behind the words they just don’t have the impact that the original expletive carried. Oh well. As long as it keeps the kid’s mouth’s clean. Right?
My all time favorite (from Shrek) “FARQUAD!”. (Say it with a british accent – no “R”)
That was too funny. I am thankful that my kids have not questioned me like that about where food came from.
@ Johnny,
Just wait. It will happen eventually.
That was a great lesson! It might have been more apparent without all that batter though. I can only imagine the freak of a chicken you guys assembled. A delicious freak of a chicken.