The Great Chicken Wars (Part II)

Previously, in the Great Chicken War, we learned how Phoebe split her sides laughing at a video of a rubber chicken squawking the Indiana Jones theme song. This led to Phoebe buying a pink rubber chicken and leaving it as an unexpected surprise on my desk.

Wanting to share the delight of the pink rubber chicken, I hung it up on the wall along with a sign proclaiming it the office mascot. Believe me, we see a LOT of crazy stuff here in the discipline office. It can really get to you after a while so, for our mental well-being, it’s essential to have a little fun now and then, and what’s more fun than squeezing a rubber chicken that makes the torturous wail you would make yourself if you weren’t afraid of getting fired?

Did you know that Amazon sells chickens of all sorts? And for a small fee, they will deliver, right to your door, a whole bag of flingable rubber chickens. And let me tell ya, these things can FLY! Unfortunately, I have terrible aim. Ask my kids. Ten years after this happened, they still talk about the time I made them sit at the top of the stairs Christmas morning while I poured myself a cup of coffee and got my camera ready before letting them come down to see what Santa brought. They whined that they were hungry so I tossed a couple granola bars up the stairs to them. Only, I throw like a girl monkey and the granola bars landed on the second step. Then down the hallway toward the kitchen. Then off to the side in the laundry room. Then on the fifth step up, until I finally just walked the damn things up to the poor starved children.

So at work, I grab one of my new flingable chickens, stretch it out, and let it fly. It nosedives into the floor nowhere near my coworker’s desk. I grab a second one and slingshot it across the room toward the front door. Again, it doesn't land in the vicinity of my coworker. Stretching out a third chicken, I hold it close to my face, focusing as if I’m staring down the barrel of a gun and Phoebe’s desk is in the crosshairs. The tiny rubber chicken takes flight, soaring on a trajectory that appears to be heading in Phoebe's direction. The air is still as the chicken glides gracefully ever-closer to the target. And then it passes her desk and keeps going, smacking the wall with a squish. This catches the attention of Phoebe who looks up toward the wall, then over at me. Her confused expression as I sit there giggling to myself makes me burst out laughing. She sees the chicken sitting on the floor and starts laughing. I'm not sure if her laughter was because of my abominable aim, or because chickens in any form, bring her giddy delight and happiness for unfathomable reasons.

It was great fun. Until Phoebe's retaliation (which was entirely disproportionate to little flying poultry!)

Tune in for the next installment.