Chicken Conversations

I don't know what it is, but every time I make chicken, the weirdest things happen.  Last night was no different.  After the chicken was cooked, I looked for the shears to cut it into pieces.  I couldn't find them, so I resorted to the next best thing:  my bare hands.  My daughter saw me.  "Mom," she said. "Why are you dismembering a chicken like that. Do you have anger issues?"

"Why, yes I do, thank you very much.  Now go sit down and stay out of my way!"

She looked at me funny, but did as I asked.

I plopped the mutilated chicken in front of my kids. They looked at it and began eating.

"Mama," my son said.  "What came first, the chicken or the egg?"

Didn't I just have this conversation not too long ago?  "The egg, Bubba.  The first chicken was a mutation from a dinosaur."

"No, Mama.  The first chicken came from outer space.  Chickens used to live on the planet where the water turned into rock."

"Mars?" I asked.

"Yeah, that one." 

"Then what happened to them?" I figured this would be a good one.

My daughter had the answer.  "A mom with anger issues tore them to pieces with her bare hands."

Okay. So I'm the one responsible for the mass extinction of chickens on Mars.  I think the Earth chickens had better look out!