Not That Kind of Chicken

I know what you're thinking.

You're thinking: What in the world are you doing? You have a full time job, a husband, and a toddler to look after! Not to mention a monster fixer-upper house, a 100 lb dog who has made it his mission in life to destroy your living room carpet (But seriously? This dog would have muddy paws in a drought), and a million other things to take care of. This is the worst possible idea.

You're all: Chickens are smelly, messy, and time-consuming. You're gonna regret this. Trust me.

But you're wrong.

You see, these aren't that kind of chicken.

These are the kind of chicken that wander cheerfully around in the backyard, doing odd, chicken-y things to amuse me while I lounge on the sunporch sipping wine margaritas lemonade and flipping through magazines.

These are the kind of chickens whose poop doesn't smell, and who only need to be fed when the weather's nice and I don't have anything better to do. And they prefer to survive solely on uneaten Dora shaped fish sticks and apples with a single bite taken out covered in dog hair.

These are the kind of chickens who greet me with a smile and a casual, "There ya go," when I come to collect their perfectly brown, spotless eggs.

Then they come clucking in through the open back door to observe (without pooping on the otherwise spotless floor) while I effortlessly whip up homemade ice cream and lemon curd in my suspiciously clean Williams-Sonoma apron.

These are that kind of chicken.

I'm sure of it.