I can honestly say that there has never been a day before in my life that I was sitting at my home when my little guy, Jonathan came running in the house screaming, "Mom, come see the rooster!"
I was having a meeting of the Relief Society presidency at my house during lunchtime and, although, it had seemed like a good idea at the time ("Oh, the kids will just play and we can have our meeting without distractions"), we were being constantly interrupted by loud toys, or needing the be the referee, or getting juice/water/snacks/etc. This seemed like another distraction... but he was so adamant. His chubby, little dirt-covered hand grabbed mine and led me out onto our deck where I expected to find a toy rooster. Instead what I found was a reason to cherish my little Jonathan once again. Strutting out in the yard for me and all my guests to see was a very large turkey (not puffed up like you see at Thanksgiving, but big all the same). And boy was it making a lot of noise. My dear little boy, not knowing how to properly name that bird, had called it a rooster. How endearing. And the reason for it's "clucking"? Ruckus, our cat, was "stalking" it. Apparently, our little Ruckus, who has no front claws, had gotten so confident in his "mousing" abilities that he was graduating to bigger prey. It taught me once again to expect the unexpected.
I was having a meeting of the Relief Society presidency at my house during lunchtime and, although, it had seemed like a good idea at the time ("Oh, the kids will just play and we can have our meeting without distractions"), we were being constantly interrupted by loud toys, or needing the be the referee, or getting juice/water/snacks/etc. This seemed like another distraction... but he was so adamant. His chubby, little dirt-covered hand grabbed mine and led me out onto our deck where I expected to find a toy rooster. Instead what I found was a reason to cherish my little Jonathan once again. Strutting out in the yard for me and all my guests to see was a very large turkey (not puffed up like you see at Thanksgiving, but big all the same). And boy was it making a lot of noise. My dear little boy, not knowing how to properly name that bird, had called it a rooster. How endearing. And the reason for it's "clucking"? Ruckus, our cat, was "stalking" it. Apparently, our little Ruckus, who has no front claws, had gotten so confident in his "mousing" abilities that he was graduating to bigger prey. It taught me once again to expect the unexpected.
"One day that Roosta came into my Yayd"
(Insert RI accent here)
