I love my students! They are always full of awesome stories and interesting tidbits. Since I teach in a small district and I have all of the 9th graders every year, I have had entire families of siblings come through. I also get to know their parents pretty well over time. Hell, I am friends with some parents on social media.
This story involves three brothers and a few of their friends. One of the brothers was a senior, one was a sophomore, and one was a freshman. I have got to know their mother pretty well over four years (and three boys) so when the youngest said to me...
"Mrs, Griffith! Guess what we did over the weekend?"
Me: "What did you do?"
"We got chickens!"
*I was both shocked and confused because they had just moved into a new house and I knew that chickens would not be high on her list of things she would want to deal with.*
Me: "Your mother" *pause of confusion *"Let you get chickens?"
"NO, she doesn't KNOW about it."
Me: "Uh huh. Where did you get chickens?"
Me: "Ah. Where are these chickens?"
Me: "You need to tell your mom that you have chickens in her house or she is going to find out and you will be in serious trouble."
*For those of you not in the know about the Rural King store, it is a sort of "farm store/menards" kind of store where they sell everything from flannel shirts, leather belts, cowboy boots, to parts and pieces of farm equipment and, yes, chickens.
So the middle brother finds me in the hallway the next day and says
"Mrs. Griffith, guess what we did last weekend!"
Me: "You got chickens!"
"Yeah! Here's how it happened...we were at Rural King, and I got a bloody nose. When I came out of the bathroom, my brothers were talking to this guy about chickens. The bottom line is...we left there with five chickens!" *his excitement was glittering in his eyes*
**now my imagination went wild here picturing some guy in a trench coat offering three teenage boys baby chickens like some other guy in a trench coat might offer them fake rolex watches or drugs. I had not ever been to a Rural King at this point.**
Me: "You really need to tell your mom that you have chickens in her house. They poop everywhere, they smell, and they're noisy. If you ruin her carpet or hardwood floors, she is going to kill you."
"They are not noisy! We got them home in (student name) mom's car and she never even knew we had them."
Me: "How did you get five chickens in her car without her knowing?" *shock in my voice*
"We put them down (student name's) shirt!"
Me: *pinching the bridge of my nose* "Oh my god. Let it be known that I am telling you to tell your mother that you have chickens in her house. "
"It's ok, we're taking them to our dad's house over the weekend."
**All I could think at this point is that "at least they aren't buying drugs."
Several weeks later, I inquired about the chickens.
Me: "So, how are the chickens? Did they make it to your dads house?"
"No, my uncle took them. He said that he'll give us our chickens back when we go to our dads in the summer AND he will throw in two more chickens!"
*he said this with the same enthusiasm he would say if he had just made $50. He had just made two chickens on the deal*
Me: "Well, at least they are out of your mom's house."
So, I want to know, RURAL KING; who sells baby chickens to three teenage boys. Walmart won't let teenagers buy large amounts of toilet paper, saran wrap, or spray paint without a parent, but YOU..YOU sell farm animals to them?! That's right, Rural King, I am pointing my finger at you. It's my teacher finger, so it should be taken very seriously.