chicken? is that you?

Chicken has a blanket. A quilt. With quilted figures of cars, trucks, helicopters, and boats on it. He likes to sit down on the blanket and put actual toy cars, trucks, helicopters, and boats on the corresponding quilted renderings. It's a nice game.

He was playing this game this afternoon.



And then he spotted his silver bowl of plastic fruits and vegetables. He scrambled up, ran to the shelf, and grabbed the bowl, howling, "NEEDA FWOOT! NEEDA FWOOT!" He turned around to dump the contents of the bowl onto the ground, and froze.

"Oh no! Gotta kweenup!"


He turned around, put the bowl back on the shelf.


He then returned to the blanket, where he gathered up all his vehicles and placed them on the table, while continuing to say, "gotta kweenup!"


He retrieved his bowl, dumped the fruits and vegetables in a pile on the blanket, and began a bizarre, incomprehensible sorting process.

While I watched him place an eggplant next to the orange bell pepper - WAIT! No, no, the eggplant obviously goes with the banana - I wondered what I should do.

Option 1:

Should I be like, "Wow Chicken that was terrific cleaning up! I'm so proud of you buddy!" (pat on the back)

Option 2:

Should I be like, "That is a basic expectation of a human being who lives under my roof and I'm pleased to see that you've taken note of your responsibilities." (extend hand for him to shake)

Option 3:

Should I be like, "WHAAAAAAAT THE FUUUUUUUCK WAS THAT?!?!?! I'll tell you what it was. It was fucking AAAAAWESOOOOME! HIGH FIVE!" (high five)

I went ahead with option 1.

But inside, I was totally option 3-ing.


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