The conversation in the car this morning went something like this:
3 year old Madeline: "Look, Aidan!....Aidan, look!....Aidan, AIDAN!" (I glance back to see her holding up a Scholastic Reading Club flier.) "Look!"
Liam starts wailing from behind me, most likely translated as: "COULD YOU PLEEEEEEASE GET ME OUT OF THIS SORRY EXCUSE FOR A SEAT WOMAN!"
"Aidan, LOOK!" Madeline shouts again.
Aidan, age 5, turns around to see. "Oh yeah. It's a rooster."
"No, it's not." Madeline argues.
Aidan, uncharacteristically calm says, "Yes, Madeline, it's a rooster."
Madeline, chuckles. "No, it's nahhhh-aht. He's from Chicken Little!" She insists....
So, I must admit, when I went broody, I never imagined the kids squabbling in the rear of the car over chickens, whether roosters or Chicken Little or what. Seriously, how many of us ever thought about the squabbles that would one day take place? Although minor, this little one started the day out just right, prepping us for the witching hour (or as my mom also called it, suicide hour, although I am guessing that is not quite as PC....)
And I can't help but burst out laughing. Now that was what I call graceful...like a chicken.