Dumbest Things People Have Said About Your Chickens/Eggs/Meat - Part 2 : Chicken Boogaloo.

[Kiki]

I have to say, living on a "agricultural recreational" property in the midst of many non-farming neighbors and their "cookie cutter" homes and neighborhoods, has been enlightening to say the least. The most surprising thing I have gotten was people freaked out that my chickens had names and I still ate the eggs and meat they provided.

(At Christmas Dinner/any event where we served chicken with non-family)
Me: "We are eating (bird's name)! I raised it myself!"
Them: "You named it?!? And you STILL ate/are eating it? That's so mean!"
(Pulls out photo of baby chicks before they grew up)
Me: "That's the one right there! Wasn't it cute?!"
Them: "There's something wrong with you. I can't eat this anymore."
Me: "Why? Is it overcooked or something?"
Them: "No! But I know it was actually a chicken!"
(Of course, it was definitely a potato!)

Granted, I accept that I am my own special brand of chicken crazy. But I would rather eat the world's most spoiled and pampered chickens that were cared for, happy, and had a humane death; as opposed to hormone filled, substandard, factory birds. (although I will probably never turn down chicken nuggets!) Another fun thing I do with family and customers is identify eggs and what chicken laid them. (Not as weird because they are sorta pets...)

Me: "That one is from Hedwig, because it's green; that white one is from Ida because it has a warped/wrinkled shell at the tip; that other white one is from Speckles be--"
Them: "Ohhhh, I know how you can tell them apart!"
Me: "Awesome!"
Them:"Yeah, because you have so many nest boxes! How do you teach them what one is theirs?"
Me:*smiles nicely* "It don't work that way, honey..."
Goes on to explain different breeds and individual characteristics.
Them: "But there are 4 white ones, 3 green ones, and 5 brown! They are all the same!"
(actually all different shades, shapes, and sizes...)
Sometimes people really surprise me with how removed from their food they actually are. And how they explain things in much more convoluted ways: i.e. rooster needed for egg production, and the like.

this is hilarious. I plan on being just like you in 5 months!

 

[Judy-n-Seth]

That's hilarious! Every single one of my neighbors have asked both "can I eat them?" and "How can I cook them?". I'm pretty sure some got tossed out since the were "homemade" and a bit sketchy.

 

[bigmrg74]

That's hilarious! Every single one of my neighbors have asked both "can I eat them?" and "How can I cook them?". I'm pretty sure some got tossed out since the were "homemade" and a bit sketchy.

They're no more homemade than the eggs that you would by at the store. They just don't have a USDA inspector that took a look at them.

 

[Lisa Wood]

Or, you can always tell them you and yours are eating the humanely raised organic cockerel, and bought a battery raised, hormone/pesticide/antibiotic/salmonella laden grocery store bird just for them. Bon appetite!

Yes. Thats even better! And do a taste test. But you know the Moms will never admit someone else knows something. At least thats how mine works.

 

[Lisa Wood]

this is hilarious.  I plan on being just like you in 5 months!

Yeah this it s comic talent. Dont we have a chicken comic thread?

 

[7 Biddies]

Yes. Thats even better! And do a taste test. But you know the Moms will never admit someone else knows something. At least thats how mine works.

Oh gosh, no! No taste test. That just shows them you're trying to change their thinking and cause them to dig their heels in further. Just be sure that you sound so concerned for their sensitivities that you went out and bought a grocery store chicken out of sympathy for their needs. They're your *guests*, after all, and you're only doing what any good hostess would. If they were allergic to dairy, you'd be sure not to have it in their food, wouldn't you? Or, if they're Jewish, you wouldn't serve them pork. You won't have to say any more. Get it? If they have the IQ of a fern, they'll hear the implication. All the while, you just smile while chomping away on your organic, free ranged, pampered entree - stopping to lick your fingers from time to time, but no comment except to lean over and say, "Hope you don't mind about me/us eating our own chicken, but I just can't bring myself to eat a battery bird raised in cruel conditions and stuffed with hormones, antibiotics, and feed sprayed with Round-Up." Be subtle, don't over sell it. It's far more effective than hitting them over the head with it. I should know - I'm a psychologist. :^)

 

[allosaurusrock]

Haha! Yes! Good thinking 7 Biddies!

 

[allosaurusrock]

So process one Thursday and just don't tell em where the chicken came from.

Yeah, that's not cool. My mom has always told me the story of when she was at a horse show and some kid was running around being a little terror around the horses. Soon enough enough of the people there got tired of that and grabbed the kid and stuffed him in a net hay bag and hung him up for a while. That was way back in the 80's so there's no way you could have pulled that stunt off now.

Oh my gosh. That is awesome. Sounds like something I would do.

 

[allosaurusrock]

There would be no polite coming out of my mouth if I were to witness that. I once took off across a lake in my kayak, and chased an idiot on a Seadoo away who was doing donuts around a poor loon family. (Mom, Dad, and baby) I then stood guard, (actually sat guard) for the loons to make it to safety, found some locals who could tell me where the person on the Seadoo had a camp, and reported it to the local Rangers. What happened from there probably was a big fat nothing. But animals have a hard enough time raising a family without some idiot making sport of harassing them.

I unfortunately had to be polite, I had just given them a guided trail ride. I don't want anyone writing a cruddy Yelp review for us.

 

[allosaurusrock]

My dad is still completely against us raising meat, but both me and my mother are very excited about turning our one acre lot into a mini farm. I just hope we can convince my dad iti is worth the effort/emotional trauma of killing and butchering chickens,