This Was In My House…
And I have no idea how it got here.
Sorry for the weird, shitty image. Focus wasn’t my main concern.
My husband was on his way to the basement to get his bike and go on a ride, then he came back upstairs holding this. “Look what I found on the stairs,” he said, holding forward a plastic, probably glow-in-the-dark toy chicken, expecting me to exclaim that I was wondering where that had gotten to, or something.
Only, I’ve never seen this before.
I’m not saying that I WOULDN’T buy a plastic, probably glow-in-the-dark toy chicken; I’m saying I DIDN’T buy a plastic, probably glow-in-the-dark toy chicken. And yet it is in my house. And while I have fantasies of becoming friends with the impressively large group of local crows and that they would start to bring me gifts, I was picturing they would bring me something like discarded wrappers of potato chips or the random lost earring. These items, I imagined, would show up on my front porch, not on the basement stairs, inside the house. But I don’t think it’s them. We’re just not that close. Yet.
It does look like it’s trying to majestically fly, non?
I have a working theory as to how this came to me, and if Archie McPhee would like to chime in and tell me that I must have missed the thank you chicken they put in a recent order box, that would be grand. Otherwise, I will operate under the idea that either 1) I have a mysterious toy chicken benefactor that creeps into my house like a chicken-bringing weirdo Santa, or 2) it was spirited in by otherworldly means. I’m still not thinking it’s the crows.