While running errands in the car today Moo related past horrors. Memories left skirking around shadowy corners of her brain were pulled out and examined in the light of day. Hopefully said memories will have lost their haunting power after their exposure to the sun.
“Mom,” she said “I like Chick-a-lay but I don’t like panda bears.” At this point I thought we were doing a compare and contrast exercise between fast food establishments we’d passed in our morning travels. She talked for a few more minutes about not liking panda bears finally calling my attention back with the following question. “We hide inna bafwoom right mom, so the panda bear no get me?”
That’s when I realized there was actually only one fast food establishment under scrutiny in my car this morning.
About a year and a half ago we were at Chick-fil-a as a family eatin’ us some nuggets when a person in a cow suit began to make the rounds from table to table in an attempt to delight children.
Moo was far from delighted.
Her terror became louder and louder as the cow-man, one table at a time, approached. Finally I took her and sought refuge in the bathroom. Cow man by this time had noticed that he was in fact the cause of the hysterics and left the dining room. We returned to our table and Moo resumed eating. A few minutes later the polyester cow made an attempt to finish his rounds. This time I took Moo and fled to the parking lot while the Mr. rounded up the other children and met us at the car.
Today the time finally came to talk all this out. First I clarified with her that the beast lurking in the chick-fil-a dinning room was not a panda bear at all, but rather a cow. No need to villainize innocent bears when it was a bovine who wronged her.
After she grasped the cow vs. panda concept we went to work on the cows motivators.
“The cow wanna git me so we hide inna bafwoom, right mom?” “No baby,” I said. “The cow didn’t want to get you, he just wanted to say hello. He didn’t know you’d be scared.” After a few repetitions of that conversation she seemed to catch on that the cow was indeed not after her. She moved on to another explanation.
“The cow wanna eat my chicken. He wanna eat my chicken and my fwies! We hide inna bafwoom and the cow git my chicken and my fwies!” The idea that our flight may have enabled the brute to burgle her dinner left her newly enraged.
There was no reasoning with her on this point. She could accept that the cow meant her no bodily harm, but that his presence was in no way malevolent was just to much for her to accept. We discussed at great length the diet of cows (hay) pandas (bamboo) and various other herbivores (horses, zebras, cows again) but in the end she was sure that cow was after her chicken.
As long as we’re on the subject of Chick-fil-a, I’m going to break a precedent here at Uniquety. I’ve never talked before about issues that involve more than myself and my family., But I guess there’s a first for everything.
Today I’m going to try to express why last Wednesday as I perused Facebook my stomach sank and sank and sank as friend after friend posted photos of themselves and their families gobbling chicken. “Do they know?” I asked myself. “Do they have any idea what they’re saying by posting that?” I wondered.
I think what those people who’s chicken posts I viewed we’re trying to say was “I support free speech” or “I’m against gay marriage,” but what I saw, was my friends saying to other friends of mine, “This is how I hate you. This is how my baby hates you. Here’s my whole family smiling and eating chicken because we hate you.”
I don’t think those friends of mine meant to say that. I have to believe that they didn’t realize that’s what they were saying. Still I wish they’d been able to see the full message that chicken sandwich was sending before they launched those photos out into the world.
I don’t know if what I’m trying to say here is coming through clearly. Here’s a post that summed up my feelings to perfection. My thanks to Mr. Turner for writing it.