No, not the president, the rooster.
A couple of months ago these two roosters adopted my parents. They literally starting camping out in Mom and Dad's backyard. Since the nation was getting new occupants at 1600, my parents decided Michelle and Obama were good names for said roosters. And being the good ark-keepers that they are, Mom and Dad started feeding them. So they stayed. And crowed. And roosted. Did I mention they crowed, a lot?
About a week ago, either Michelle or Obama (no one's really sure about this detail) was killed by a hawk. Out of respect to the office, they decided Obama was still alive.
For the past week, that darned rooster stood on the front porch and crowed. And crowed. And crowed. The biggest fit I've ever seen a rooster throw.
It seems he was seeing his reflection in the glass door and thought his other half was still there.
I know exactly how he feels.
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I went straight from laughing while reading this to having a tear in my eye. :(
ReplyDeleteGirl, that rooster cracked me up the other day. He acted like he owned the place and wanted to know what the heck was I doing there??? Crazy rooster.
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