When you spend as much time with a 2 year-old as I do, much of that time is dedicated to animals. “What’s this animal?” “What’s the ________ say?” and on and on. Every book, animals riding in cars, talking to each other, drunk-texting each other in bars, whatever. Yesterday I was getting ready to feed the Short Bus, thinking about what to give him, and I noticed he was still clutching a small plastic chicken he had been playing with for a while.
Hmm, I thought. Feels like chicken.
Is that wrong? Feeding the boy the very animal he’s playing with at the moment?
Hmm. Life: a riddle in a jack-in-the-box.
"Hmm. Hey, here's a riddle: guess which one of us actually stuffed his fat-fuck face with the chicken?"
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