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Great, so Stephen thinks I am losing my mind, when in ACTUAL fact, I am being outwitted and outplayed by a chicken.

There I was, sitting at my desk at home, catching up on some much-needed work in between renovations and parenting duties, when Itchy, my stupid male chicken, decided to pay me a visit. (Let’s just say that what began as rather “cute” visits inside the house have now become rather tiresome, as I spend at least half an hour a day chasing him out of various rooms.)

Itchy: Cockadoodledoo!
Me (nearly wetting myself with fright as the sound echoed throughout the lounge): Piss off, Itchy, I have work to do.
Itchy: Cluuuuuck cluck cluck cluck cluuuuuuck!
Me (now getting up and chasing the stupid chicken out onto the patio): I’m SERIOUS. Leave me ALONE!


Silence.

Itchy: Cockadoodledoo!
Me (jumping sky high as stupid chicken flies through open window next to me): Seriously? Seriously. You have nothing better to do than ANNOY me? Get out!
Itchy (rather huffily from his perch on the windowsill): Cluuuuuck cluck cluck cluck cluuuuuuck.
Me (charging at the window like an enraged bull): OOOOUUUUTTTT!!!!!

Silence.

Itchy (from a different window): Cockadoodledoo!
Me (screeching like a deranged banshee): You’re still the same chicken! Coming through different doors or windows doesn’t fool me. I’m not that stupid! You’re still THE SAME CHICKEN!
Stephen (home early from work): Um, is everything alright in here?
Me: Erm yes, just chatting to the chicken.
Stephen: I’m going to get you a wet facecloth for your forehead and then you’re going to have a little lie-down. Okay?

I swear that chicken is trying to get me committed.

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