The Chicken Incident: A Schnauzer's Tale

My Sam is the bestest dog in the whole world. He is everything a dog should be: cute, smart, furry, housebroken, cuddly, non-shedding, and awesome in every way. He is perfectly behaved 99% of the time.

This story is about the other 1%.

We had just moved in to a new (to us) house and met our delightful next-door neighbors, their lovely daughters, and their chickens. Upon being introduced to Mr. Cheeps, we had the following thoughts:

No. 1: Um...

No. 2: &%$#@! (See "The Happiest Place on Earth" post)

No. 3: Cool!

Husband: Er...

Me: Ew.

Sam: Yum!

At this time, we had just started letting the girls be home alone for short periods of time with No. 1 in charge. Every time before we left, we delivered the same lecture: Keep the doors shut and locked, stay inside, don't let Sam out no matter what. One fateful day, I ran to the store. I was literally gone for 12 minutes and came home to find the front door open, the back door open, both gates unlatched, and pieces of Mr. Cheeps all over the front lawn. I found my sweet Sam in the back yard, blissfully happy, covered in chicken blood.

I snapped in to angry mother mode. I gathered the girls together, supplied them with latex gloves, and told them to clean up the mess. After much whining, crying, and dry heaving the evidence of the massacre had been cleaned up, conveniently at the same time Mr. B arrived home. We walked next door and I made the girls tell him that Sam had done Mr. Cheeps in.

No. 2: We're sorry we let Sam out and he ate Mr. Cheeps.

No 1: (Sobbing)

Mr. B: Well, thank you for telling me.

No. 3, ever tactful: There was blood spurting out of his neck.

Mr. B: I didn't need to know that...

No. 1: (Sobbing)

Mr. B: Don't worry about it, I never liked him anyway. Mrs. B and the girls will get over it. Did you at least give him a proper burial?

Me, lying through my teeth: Of course!

What was left of Mr. Cheeps was in my trash can.

That evening at 11:00, Husband and I went out and dug a grave for a chicken in our back yard, without the benefit of a flashlight, so the neighbors wouldn't find out what a liar I was.

Ho Ho Noooo...

Last night we had our family Christmas party. Mom thought it would be fun to play that game where one person opens a present and the next person can steal it and then the first person has to open another present. The next person can then steal either present and so on. This can be a lot of fun when the gifts are good.

My brother went first and opened up a purple t-shirt with a torch on it. Hmmm. My sister-in-law was next and, taking a pass on the snazzy t-shirt, opened a cube of note paper. Niece the Second opened an Eddie Bauer flashlight/alarm clock which was marginally desirable. Niece the First opened a t-shirt from Speidiefest 2008, child size small. (Please bear in mind that no one present is child sized.) No. 1 opened a pair of purple tights, size large. (Please bear in mind that no one present is a size large either.) When Nephew the Second opened up a Tortenplatte (cake plate) my Mom had purchased at WMF in Stuttgart when we were there in 1983, I was overcome with a wave of hysterical laughter so severe I couldn't breathe.

My mother had come up with 21 presents nobody wanted.

Mom considers herself a great shopper and prides herself on buying people fantastic presents they absolutely love at bargain prices.

In reality, Mom buys the worst presents ever, shopping with an utter disregard for the tastes, wants, and preferences of the recipient. One of her favorite things to do is buy items on extreme clearance and leave the tag on, so the recipient can enjoy the gift more knowing what a good deal she got.

What follows is a completely factual and true list, in no particular order, of items my mother has given as Christmas gifts:

Top sheets and bottom sheets that do not match, but are name brand and very high quality

BandAids

A book the author had signed "To Grace, Best Wishes!"

Hot pink placemats*

A t-shirt with a squirrel on it that said, "All The People Who Drive Me Nuts Are In My Family", purchased at Cracker Barrel (Given to me 3 years ago)

Silver utensils inscribed with someone elses initials; very high quality, of course

Hideous clothing containing shoulder ruffles well after 1980

Bright orange placemats*

Tennis player oven mitts, given to people who do not play tennis

A staple remover*

A bright turquoise sweatshirt, size XXL, for a 6'4" tall man

A collapsible gardening hat

Pink velvet couches (very high quality)

*items given to my brother-in-law

Needless to say, as a child I found the holidays somewhat disappointing. Each year on Christmas morning, my friends would call and we would have a conversation that went something like this:

Friend: I got a Guess sweater, five pairs of jeans, a juke box, a pinball machine, an Atari, and a gold necklace. What did you get?

Me: Uh... Irregular sweatpants.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I formed my excellent sense of humor.

Merry Christmas to you all!

***UPDATE***

This is what Mom gave my brother for Christmas this year:



Yep, that's a jar of Orange Marmalade.