“MOM!” two kids came to the sliding glass door, screaming and out of breath. “MOM MOM MOM! The rooster, the rooster!”
“What? What is happening?”
Bernadette, age 7½, aghast, cried, “The rooster is ON TOP of the chicken. Mom, I mean he is on TOP of the chicken. Like ON TOP! What should we do?”
“YEAH! MOM! WHAT SHOULD WE DO?” echoed her little sister, Shirley.
“It’s okay,” I told them. “That’s what roosters are supposed to do. That’s how they make baby chickens.”
They both held puzzled looks for a moment, and then Bernadette checked in: “So he isn’t being bad?”
“Well, no. He’s not being bad.”
Bernadette continued, “So is he being good?”
Uhh. “He’s just being a chicken. That’s what chickens do.”
“Oh, okay.” Bernadette said. She closed the sliding glass door and she and Shirley ran back toward the yard. “GOOD JOB, ROOSTER! GOOD WORK, ROOSTER!” I heard them shouting. “GO BERNIE GO!”
Like Bernie really needed a cheer squad!