Chicky Come Home!

Grasping the opportunity for an hour to herself, feeling semi guilty for not going to the gym, she strolls the aisles of Home Goods.  Pushing her cart, she is serenaded by the sound of store clerks busily stocking the shelves with new merchandise.  Ching. Clank. The occasional Crash. {oops} 


As she peruses the kitchen textile department, she can’t help but overhear the conversation taking place just two aisles over.  In their rather loud, boisterous voices, two elderly ladies are ranting on. “Who buys that?” , says the first. “I don’t know, why would anyone want that?”, scowls the second.  “Excuse me,” the first cackles to the employee, “Do people really buy those things?” 


Curious as to what all the ranting and raving is about, she strolls around the corner and immediately freezes in her tracks.  There…across the main aisle…are the objects of these elderly ladies’ vexation.  Four giant metal roosters are staring them down.


Now, this is where I must pause the story.  These are metal roosters that are 3 feet tall, and I’m having a flashback to this story from The Bloggess.  You see, when I read that story, I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.  Simply because it is something that would happen to me.  Totally.  Especially, if my sister was with me.  Because crazy things like that always happen when we are together…like during Thanksgiving.

So, here I am at Home Goods, being stared down by not just one…but four…giant metal roosters!  Seriously….What are the odds?!?!?!?  I think to myself…I must have one! No, Suzanne…You don’t need a giant metal rooster!  Walk away. So, I do…but just for fun, I take a picture of some {roosters} and send it to my sister…so she can laugh too. 


I move on…enjoying my hour at the store…baskets, wall art, rugs…where was that metal rooster?  I swear I am drawn over to the display as if all that metal was attracting a giant magnet.  

Ok, it is really cute.  And big.  And I have the perfect corner in my kitchen for it.  No, Suzanne, NO!  Your husband is not a fan of your rooster infatuation.  You must suppress those feelings!   I do have a secret love for roosters…the ONLY roosters I have been able to sneak into my house are these guys.  Aren’t they cute?  {I have two of them}  I love the way they say “cock-a-doodle-doo” to me in the morning when I lift the lid to make coffee.


As I stand there, lusting after the roosters, the internal debate is ensuing.  There is a black rooster, a red rooster, and the lonely white rooster.  They are all so cute.  And, look at those adorable spots!  I pull one of each down off the shelf, and set them next to each other…sizing them up.  No, Suzanne, NO!  You don’t need a three foot tall metal rooster.

But, think of the possibilities…it could wear a Santa hat at Christmas, we could put Halloween costumes on it.  It could show up outside my husband’s office and scare the bejeezus out of him.  Hehehehe.  Yes, I want the metal rooster!  No, Suzanne, NO…get a hold of yourself!  Yes…I want it….I need it!  WHO DOESN’T NEED A GIANT METAL ROOSTER?!?!?!?!  And that, my friends, was in my ‘Out-Loud’ voice…yes, yes it was.  The lady in the aisle next to me looked at me like I was completely insane.  “Umm…they are cute…I suppose” were her exact words as she quickly left the aisle.

At that, I loaded up the lone white rooster and proudly headed to the check out. 

The story doesn’t end there though…no…I had to get this baby into my house…without my husband seeing me.  Because if he as so much saw that rooster before it made its way through the door, I’d have to return it. 

I crept into the house and checked for all signs of life.  My husband was upstairs in his office busily working away.  {Hehehe}  I ran back out to the car, grabbed the rooster, snuck back into the house and stuck it in my {no longer empty} kitchen corner.  “Hi hun, by hun, gotta go get the kids from school,” I yelled and ran out. 


Upon arriving back home…I walked into the kitchen, where my husband was standing…arms crossed.  “Really?  Really?!?  A GIANT METAL ROOSTER?!?!?!?!??!”  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!   I about peed my pants…again!  The look on his face was priceless..  What made it even better was when my kids ran over to it, screaming with delight and hugging it as if it was their long lost pet, “Can we name him Chicky???”  “Yes….yes we can kids,” I say. 

And that, my friends, is how you sneak a giant metal rooster into your house.  Cheers!