Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Crazy Buchanan House
This here is a totally fictionalized account of last night....
Yesterday after work, I stopped by KFC for supper. I got the 9.99 Dale whateverhisname is bucket.
Brandi asked for a chicken leg and I put one on her plate. The first thing I did (as usual) was to take all the chicken off the bone and put ketchup on her plate. She looked down at it and started crying. I asked her what was wrong. She said she wanted her chicken with the bone in it. Later on she asked for another peice of chicken. I gave it to her with the bone left in of course. Well what do you know? She wanted the bone took out of the chicken. So she starts bawling and howling and bawling and howling. And I, wanting to be a good mother, and not give in to her tantrum, continued reading my True Confession magazine. Doug also iggyed her. Meanwhile, she continues to get louder and louder and louder.
Soon I hear a loud knock on the door. I go see who it is. A police officer is standing there and said he had a report of a child screaming loudly and he had to check and make sure she wasn't being abused.
So, I brought him into the kitchen.
There Brandi sat. Screaming. "Mommy!" she wailed. "Cut up my CHICKEN!" (small breath here) "MOMMY!" (More wailing) "CUT UP MY CHIIIIIIIIIIIKEEEEN!" Over and over and over again.
I asked him if he wanted to take her with him.
He said "No thanks," and laughed all the way back to the car.
Comments-[ comments.]
Yesterday after work, I stopped by KFC for supper. I got the 9.99 Dale whateverhisname is bucket.
Brandi asked for a chicken leg and I put one on her plate. The first thing I did (as usual) was to take all the chicken off the bone and put ketchup on her plate. She looked down at it and started crying. I asked her what was wrong. She said she wanted her chicken with the bone in it. Later on she asked for another peice of chicken. I gave it to her with the bone left in of course. Well what do you know? She wanted the bone took out of the chicken. So she starts bawling and howling and bawling and howling. And I, wanting to be a good mother, and not give in to her tantrum, continued reading my True Confession magazine. Doug also iggyed her. Meanwhile, she continues to get louder and louder and louder.
Soon I hear a loud knock on the door. I go see who it is. A police officer is standing there and said he had a report of a child screaming loudly and he had to check and make sure she wasn't being abused.
So, I brought him into the kitchen.
There Brandi sat. Screaming. "Mommy!" she wailed. "Cut up my CHICKEN!" (small breath here) "MOMMY!" (More wailing) "CUT UP MY CHIIIIIIIIIIIKEEEEN!" Over and over and over again.
I asked him if he wanted to take her with him.
He said "No thanks," and laughed all the way back to the car.
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