Uh, Thanks Mom

A bulky package arrived the other day from my Mom. Knowing it was a gift, we video conferenced with her when we opened it. I should have known when she started giggling before we even got the scissors out.

Years ago, I told The Chicken that we have opened ourselves up to years of poultry jokes and chicken related gifts of every variety. Indeed, I once received a huge yellow stuffed chick from my normally very serious mom-in-law's hubby Major Pete, which I then had to take through security in the TO airport. "Nice Duck" the security guy said as the chick, perched in a grey bin, was conveyered into the X-ray machine. I was afraid to correct the guard at the time. Then there was the time an old friend gave me a itty bitty tiny rubber chicken and said "I don't know why this reminded me of you, but I thought you would like it." Then there was the time The Chicken Dance was requested by the bride and groom at a wedding I MCed as "our song". And then there are the various chicken related birthday cards and such that have found their way into our lives over the years. Not that we mind. We like that we are in your thoughts and we like that you appreciate our unique personal endearments of the Hen and Chicken. But this year my Mom takes the cake.

So when we opened the package, with Mom giggling on, I was expecting silly. But this was extraordinarily silly, with the added bonus of chicken-ness. She had knitted us matching touques covered in a chicken and eggs motif. To top it off, instead of pom-poms we each have three wee chickens hanging off strings.

Mom says we don't have to wear them in public, but I have no shame. Can't you see these hats on the ski hill with chickens streaming behind in the wind?

And they will be great for the winter about the house here. Since our apartment is usually the same temperature as outside, it means the day time high in the living room was about 15 degrees today. This afternoon we were both wearing our new hats in the kitchen as I gave The Chicken his first baking lesson. We were listening to the greatest baking music ever, Black Sabbath, and head banging our pom-pom chickens around the kitchen.

Perhaps it is best that the neighbors can't see us though the kitchen window.