Tastes Like Chicken

Last Hallowe'en Grandma Leslie bought the boys a themed picture book in a attempt to thwart the previous year's mishaps. Unfortunately it didn't make much difference at the time, but my boys have since grown to have a fine appreciation for all things Hallowe'en and are now well acquainted with jack-o-lanterns and bats and a proper spider's web.

There is however one page they still struggle with – namely, this one:

I've called it a toad. I've even tried calling it a frog. My boys on the other hand (and without fail) call it chicken, and so far there's been no talking them out of it. 

And just in case you're not two years old and aren't quite getting the connection looking at what we ate for supper tonight, here's what they are probably seeing every time I get rotisserie take-out from up the street:

It's delicious, but I have to admit... it's getting harder and harder to eat it.

– L.

PS. I think I preferred things overall when we ate dog meat.