The morning after the state fair, my brother and SIL came to have breakfast with us in the crummy motel. Afterwards, they helped us reload.
Then, we went to pick up Dixie's great-grandmother and take her to lunch. Fern had not seen Dixie since before we adopted her, which meant I had never met this woman and I was going to pick her up in my minivan that was full of children, luggage and had a six-foot metal chicken strapped to the roof. Concerned, I had this conversation with Dixie's grandmother along the way.
Me: Um, just how much dignity does Granny Fern have, exactly?
Gma Jane: None, none at all. She will find it hysterical.
Halfway through eating butterburgers and cheese curds at Culver's, I look out the window to see about ten people gathered around my van, animatedly discussing the contents of my cargo.
Jealous. They are laughing, staring and pointing from jealously and naught else.
After returning Granny Fern to her home (and hearing her tell her caregiver, "Dixie just has the nicest family. Such cute kids!" but leaving out the chicken aspect) we haul off to Sandy's swanky, suburban neighborhood.
Matt calls out, "Honey, it's for you!" as he retreats into his homestead.
After a great deal of laughing and wiping away tears, we hang out a few minutes before saying our goodbyes. Matt, ever the optimist, says, "Here, let me help you load your chicken."
Matt, you mean YOUR chicken. I have no desire for a chicken. (Who would, really?)
Sandy, in love with her chicken, keeps him busy 'discussing' their new family member while we make a clean getaway.
Britney, as is now the rooster's drag name, has, despite Matt's opposition, positively impacted their children's well being. S/he has become the inspiration for great artwork:
Britney helps to keep the bugs out of their backyard garden in his/her prominent roosting spot--just outside the living room window and visible from the master bedroom, of course.
And thus concludes the saga of the might chicken, or does it?? [cue: cliffhanger music]