Buff Orpingtons

Buff Orpingtons

Yesterday as I was sitting in the visitation room at the local hoosegow, the inmate I was playing scrabble with looked behind me and got a very soft smile on his face.

What are you looking at, I asked?

"Some adorable twin boys just came in!" he replied.

I turned around, gave a cursory glance to the babes and turned back to my scrabble letters. My mind registered two pairs of blue shorts, two white tee-shirts and then went "Blah."

"You really don't like kids, do you?" he asked.

"Oh, I like them," I said. "But they just aren't that interesting to me. I'd be really excited if I turned around and saw someone carrying two matching chickens under their arms."

My friend looked at me in total disbelief. "Girl, you are Straaaaange!" He laughed.

Well!!

Matching infant human beings: I just don't get it. I don't grasp God's Plan in making duplicates of things like people. Isn't it bad enough that we have to have One of Each? I REALLY don't get it when they start having litters of children, although to be fair that seems more the fault of Bad Fertility Drugs than God's Plan.

"I'd get REALLY excited if I turned around and someone had a pair of matching Barred Rocks with them. Or better yet, Buff Orpingtons!"

"You are totally weird, girlfriend! Who would bring chickens into a prison visitation room?"

"Well, they'd be quieter than children, now wouldn't they??" And then the sheer absurdity of the conversation struck us both and we laughed like hyenas. And then I beat his ass in Scrabble.

Barred Rock