Today I saw a man.
And this, by itself, is not at all noteworthy. But when you combine it with the fact that he was wearing something on his head that made him look like a chicken and he was playing an accordion, well now you can see why I’d want to write this down.
I think he was trying to make some money, as he was playing on a street corner in center city Philadelphia. And God bless the heat for not being quite so terrible today. The day landed at a cool 86 degrees this afternoon and it must have been very appreciated by this man I have described because that chicken head looked like the kind of chicken head that does not do well in 105 degree weather.
And speaking of chickens, did you know that there was a year in my childhood in which we ate chicken for dinner every single night? Ask any of us kids, and we will tell you that by the second month or so, it was just awful. Ask either of my parents, and they will tell you that by the second month of so, we were just awful.
Because see, we’d complain about that chicken. We were like Miss Hannigan singing about Little Girls, except we were kids and we’d sing a lamenting ballad that may or may not be a little inappropriate when she references men and how she’d like them to nibble on her and goodness, but isn’t this Annie? Isn’t this just a kid’s musical?! But right, we were kids and were we given a ballad to sing, it’d be about chickens because every where we looked, they were there.
And we had to eat them.
And guess what I’ve never ever, not once!, ordered at a restaurant? That’s right: a chicken dinner.
But I have ordered peanut butter and jelly at Potbellys, something for which I’ve been made fun of. We were passing by the restaurant and I blurted out to my friends that I loved Potbellys; that they make great PB&J’s! and well, I guess that is not normal fare to order from a restaurant.
But I was never forced to eat PB&J every day of my life for a whole year, and therefore I can order it happily and of my own volition.
Still, I know. At least we had parents and at least they fed us and really, we shouldn’t have been awful at all. We should have been grateful.
So thanks, mom and pop. For all that chicken. For alllllllllll that chicken. It was a lot of protein and meals and sustenance, but mostly?
It was a lot.
Of chicken.
Don’t forget the Zucchini!!!
you know, I kind of did forget the zucchini–why did we eat so much zucchini, I wonder??
We had a very long stretch of turkey burger
dinners in the DiNatale home. And then–when my mom returned to work when I was in highschool–we had Chinese take-out every night. I feel sick just thinking of that. I actually hate Chinese take-out now. BUT, yes…thank you mom for feeding us, anyway. It was nice to have dinner together every night for so long.
hahaha Linds–I love hearing your food stories from childhood; they are good ones! And the turkey burgers–that is not so bad, but if you eat anything for too long, than it becomes so bad! and ugh. Chinese take-out?!?! You know, I don’t really mind chinese food, but I never really WANT to eat it. Like it’s never my first choice, if I have one.
Once my mom came home with what looked like a bale of Swiss chard. Swiss chard, if you are not familiar, is like spinach’s poorer cousin. It was tough and pretty bitter even after being boiled to death (the only way to prepare it, apparently) and doused in butter and salt. And we ate it every evening for what seemed like a very long time.
Oddly enough, given that experience, I have learned to like spinach. I haven’t been brave enough to try Swiss chard again. Or any domestic chards, for that matter.
Peaj–I wouldn’t eat ANYTHING that has the word “chard” attached to it. Kudos to you for eating it…but man, that does not sound good. So sorry about that chard, buddy.
I don’t remember having to eat the same thing over and over at my house when I was growing up. However, my father went through this phase where we had to drink the liquid in which the vegetables were cooked, because that’s where all the vitamins were…keep in mind, we often ate canned vegetables…so that’s where all the SALT was! Also, we had to eat liver far too regularly, if you ask me and, in my opinion, once is too much!
Oh Kathie–that sounds crazy-bad. Like, really really terrible. I remember having to drink a whole glass of orange juice every morning and I thought THAT was bad. But at least it was the juice from an orange–not from canned veggies!!!:(
Hahaha. Why all the chicken?
we actually raised chickens for a while and then one day my parents decided to take them to the slaughter house and voila! chicken dinner for a whole year.
And look how big and strong you grew.
I owe it all to the chicken.
it’s all the chicken wants, is a little love.
Wow! Maybe they should have raised a few other animals at the same time.
well, they did–but I don’t think they could have convinced us to eat the family dog. Or the cats. Or the horses.
hehe, eating PBJ in a restaurant….still funny to me. but, whatever floats your boat!
but see–this PB&J, it was grilled…so that’s a little bit special, right??
oops–I’m on Jenna’s computer. but this is jessica, if you couldn’t already tell.
i was gonna say, hot dang! even Jenna is steppin’ in on this defense…..
Dangs don’t get much hotter than that.