I’m sure all of us has told the joke (is it a joke or just a question), “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
Well it turns out that in the real world, out here on the farm, we don’t ask “Why did the chicken cross the road?” We ask, “Will the chicken cross the road?”
Can you see past the dirt on my window to see my chicken? I noticed her close to the road and I actually said out loud, “Is she going to cross the road?”
Yes. Yes I think she was going to. I didn’t stop to ask why. But I did run out there like a mother hen, (hahaha) and scoop her up.
(Yep. Still in my pjs.)
Bad chicken. You may not cross the road, regardless of what’s on the other side!
Beer is very acidic mama chicken and acidity will wreak havoc in your precious little body! You may not have beer unless you are taking your Alkalete!
So I rescued my mama chicken from crossing the road and then she followed me to the front door.
(Ew. Really dirty window!)
I’ve often wondered why they always come to the front door but now I know.
I can imagine that her and all her mama chicken friends ask each other every day, “Why did my person go into that huge box?”
Touché mama chicken. Touché.