My Meter Reader Doesn't Know I Blog...

which is probably a good thing, because I just have to tell you something.



Living in the country, we have chickens. Not too many, just enough to provide us with enough eggs for a week. We also thought we'd just love to have a Bantam, because they're oh-so-cute. (If you know anything about bantam chickens, you should probably be shaking your head at our naivety right now.) We actually got our little rooster along with a pretty female bantam from some friends. (Or so we thought...)



This particular rooster, whom we nicknamed Banty, of all things, was a TERROR. No. He wasn't mean. He was pure, unadulterated EVIL. And he was smart. He was free-range, which means we let him roam the yard to eat the ticks and chiggers, and he would actually wait until you weren't looking and attack you. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again. I don't think I can count how many times our kids ran into the house screaming because they were attacked by a CHICKEN. (Sorry. I have to admit, that yes. There were times I giggled. All right. I probably laughed.) Because it's just a chicken, right? Then he started flogging me. I admit. I do happen to find the oddest things funny.



He was so mean, we didn't need the dog anymore. No, we thought we'd just leave him alone (YOU try to catch a demon chicken and put him in a cage! When you do, please let me know so I can watch.)



One day while we were safely in the house doing school, the meter reader came to take the reading. On the meter. That's on the side of the house. No, the OTHER side of the house. hee hee ~ we stopped school to watch. Banty was innocently pecking the ground as the victim man got out of the truck.



"Oh, you're a cute little chicken." he said as he walked by. (Poor city slicker.) The chicken nodded his head as if to agree and let him pass. I thought, wow. All we have to do is flatter him and we should be safe. Not so. As soon the that meter reader got to the OTHER side of the house, demon chicken takes off after him. Next thing we hear is (wait. I can't post that here. This is a family friendly blog) and we see this grown, six foot man running full speed ahead and diving into his truck. With a leetle eety beety cheeken running after him...



Admit it...you'd be laughing too.



[image error]