October 5, 2011

  • Talking Chicken

    Being the fine specimen of a husband that I am, I stopped off after football training to get my woman some fried chicken. One thing I have learnt in my many years of marriage experience is that when your woman wants chicken, get her chicken. Thankfully close to home there is a place that does chicken, fried the way my wife likes it – so there I stopped.

     

    I place my order, and wait. As I am waiting, a little girl – 5 years old – looks at me.

     

    “Do you want that spicy?” she asks.

     

    “Just a little spicy.”

     

    “Where do you live?”

     

    “Just down the road, that way,” I pointed. “One minute drive in the car.”

     

    “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at an injury on my elbow.

     

    “I did that playing football.”

     

    “Does it hurt?”

     

    “No,” I replied.

     

    “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at my shin guards. I was lazy – did not get changed after football, just climbed in the car and headed home. Well… to the chicken place.

     

    “Those protect my legs,” I said. “When I play football, if someone kicks me then it doesn’t hurt.”

     

    “Oh.”

     

    There was now a small pause, but her parents – who run the fried chicken stand – were smiling at the foreigner who could speak enough Chinese to talk with their daughter.

     

    “Your nose is big.”

     

    That’s very nice of you to notice, I thought.

     

    “Yes it is.”

     

    “Do you have a sister?”

     

    “Yes, I have a younger sister.”

     

    “Is her nose big too?”

     

    “Not as big as mine,” I replied. “I also have a big belly.”

     

    I patted my stomach to emphasise my point.

     

    “Yes you do. My stomach is small,” said the little girl, flattening her shirt against her belly to prove her point. 

     

    “At the moment,” I replied with a smile. “When you’re old like me, maybe you will also have a big belly.”

     

    “Yes… maybe”

     

    She then ran off to meet her little brother who had arrived, and then headed in to her home, the fat foreigner with the big nose immediately forgotten.

     

    But the chicken – according to the wife – was good.

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