Charlie and the Laboratory Chicken

Here’s the thing.

Ever since I hit my goal weight, I’ve been running like a chicken with my head cut off. No time to take a breath and enjoy life. Because the kids still have 8 million activities and appointments. Matt and I are trying to finalize some big plans for our family. We are still going through some court related issues that leave my heart spinning. All of this is still happening while I’m supposed to be celebrating this uber huge weight loss.

I’ve not really had time to come to terms with all of it. Because even though it’s a wonderful thing, I’m feeling emotionally vulnerable.

(Not to mention an hour after I announced my weight loss victory, the local news called me and wanted to know if they could talk to me and film in my home. For a recovering recluse, this was a BIG step towards getting over my old “You can’t come inside” habits. Breaking chains, people, even when there’s not enough Xanax in the world. If you didn’t see it, click here and catch it!)

So I’ve been running, dashing and speaking, but had yet to take a moment to celebrate all that’s happened.

Now, yesterday was one of those fart in a can kind of days. And what I mean by that is I was so busy, there wasn’t even time to sniff your own stink. (Admit it. You’ve pookered and waved the bottom air up to see what it smelled like. And sometimes, I bet you even were impressed with yourself. We’ve ALL done it. I’m just stupid enough to admit it. Moving on.) I had 8 tasks to complete in the 2 hours between getting all the kids on the bus and having to work at the middle school for parent volunteer time. INSANITY.

I was rushing from place to place to place to place, trying to make every microsecond count. And finally, I got to my doctor’s office where I had to get some routine blood work done. (Regular checkups, people. It could save your life.)

There I was, sitting in a PACKED laboratory waiting room. And I finally had a moment to breathe. And it kinda scared me. Just the hugeness of it. (That’s what she said.) And I knew I needed to laugh or I would cry from physical and emotional exhaustion. I needed a distraction.

So my friend Christine had linked up this story on my facebook wall from The Bloggess, with a comment of “Charlie Hester...you will laugh your butt off!!! I can see us doing this if we ever went shopping together. Too bad we don't live in the same town! We'd be TROUBLE!” (And THAT, my friends, is how you successfully bait and triple dog dare me to read something.)

For those of my friends who have more delicate sensibilities, I’ll warn you that the Bloggess doesn’t have a cursing filter. For my other friends, (especially Results not Typical Girl and Jia) this post won’t even phase you (in fact, you’ve probably already read it). 

I’m linking it up here if you would care to read it for yourself. You’ve been disclaimed. (But really, the rest of this post won’t make any sense at all if you don’t read it. So maybe just go for it. You can thank me later. Or send me irritated emails that I violated your eyes. It’s really your call.)

Now. There are a few things you need to know about me to understand this post.

A) Matt and I are “catch phrase” junkies. If it’s funny to us, we will repeat it until the day we die. (We quoted lines from the movie Supertroopers in our wedding vows. Me: “I will love you from meow until forever.” Matt, without missing a beat: “Did you just say MEOW?” He didn't even know it was coming. I LOVE THAT MAN SO MUCH! We are THOSE kinds of people.)

B) We are always on the lookout for phrases we can add to our repertoire. Again, if it’s funny, we will repeat it.

C) Matt and I have a fantastic relationship without being unrealistic about the other’s personality. We know we both have “qwerks” and even though they occasionally annoy us, we also find them hysterical about one another. (He makes fun of my fantasticly over exaggerated “Phone-Voice.” I make fun of the fact he drives like Mr. Magoo. Touche.)

D) We love having fun. We would rather have fun than be romantic. That’s just who we are.

E) When I really get to laughing, it’s loud, obnoxious, snorty, and annoying to others who aren’t laughing.

Back to the point of this story. (Assuming it has one.)

Packed lab. 20 + minutes to kill. Triple dog dare. And, this leads me to starting to read the Bloggess for the first time in a packed room of cranky people.

So there I am, sitting in a chair between 2 old gals on one side, and a really old gentleman on the other side. My iphone is out, the blog post is up, and I started to read.

And the laughing started almost immediately. Because Matt and I have had the same *types* of conversations about me spending money. I come home with useless crap from Big Lots ALL. THE. TIME.

At first, my laughing started as the church giggles. (Laughing in inappropriate places at inappropriate times.) As I kept reading her witty banter (especially the part about *giving* a person perspective) I thought I was going to lose it. Church giggles turned into snort laughing as QUIETLY as I could. (which frankly, it’s impossible to snort laugh quietly.)

AND THEN:

I got to the picture of her chicken on the front door. I was GASPING FOR AIR, imagining Matt’s reaction if he answered a knock and saw that beauty blocking the front door. Because as annoyed as he would be, it would be hysterical. TO ME. And whomever was brave enough to help me haul a ginormous metal chicken up my driveway and wait in the bushes with me to see what Matt's response would be.

AND THAT WAS WHEN I READ THE CAPTION UNDERNEATH THE PICTURE OF THE CHICKEN AT THE DOOR.

And I first read it as “knock knock, mother clucker.” And I did a screaming gasp of laughter, because this was going to be a new quote between Matt and I the second I got home and made him read it. And I did the screaming gasp of laughter again (but louder) when I saw that *it did not in fact say clucker*

I WAS GONE. My laugh was echoing through the entire clinic. 95% of the people were shooting me dirty looks, totally annoyed that I was being so inconsiderate and cackling like a fool.

But the other 5%? Those are the people that freaking make my day.

The two old gals sitting on one side of me were chuckling to themselves, and I finally heard one of the ladies say “I can’t stand it anymore.”

Tap tap tap on my shoulder.

Me (trying not to sound like a crazy person): “Ye-hehehehehehehehe. Sorry. Yes?”

Old gal: “Honey, WHAT on earth is so funny?”

Me: “It’s… (giggle) a story… (snort) about a… (wiping tears from my eyes) BIG… (volume control of my voice has now escaped me and I’m now yelling at full throttle) METAL CHICKEN! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!” (at which point I resumed my uncontrollable laughing fit)

Other old gal: “What’d she say? All I heard was metal chicken.”

Random person ALL THE WAY across the room: “We ALL heard about the big metal chicken.”

And that was my very first time reading the Bloggess. And I feel much better now.

The End.