Thursday, April 20, 2017

Chicken Feathers


Grammy was such an obedient and well-behaved child that I don't think she ever had anything to confess. The standard joke about her by her siblings was that their priest probably fell asleep listening to her confessions. Well, there was this one time when she was about eight years old that Father must have paid attention. The story goes like this:

Every afternoon, her father liked to take a nap on the davenport in the parlor and Grammy's mother always told her, "Now be nice and quiet so you don't wake up Daddy."

Usually Grammy played with her doll or colored some pictures she had drawn on the backs of old letter paper. This one afternoon, though, Grammy had nothing to do except wander around the house, playing with a chicken feather she had found on the back porch. She tossed the feather into the air, then watched it glide ever so gracefully back down. As Grammy walked past the davenport, she looked at Daddy lying there on his back and snoring with much energy.

He exhaled - puff, puff, puff - then he inhaled - snore, snore, snore - then he exhaled again.

Grammy suddenly had a great idea. If she put the feather over her father's face, he could make it fly a long time with all that snoring. So she held the feather over his face and let go. Daddy puffed and the feather flew upward; Daddy snored and the feather glided downward. Up and down, up and down, making Grammy giggle. But then, when Daddy was supposed to puff puff, he went, "snert, snort, sniffle, snuhk."

Grammy watched in helpless terror as the feather flopped for a while, then dropped into Daddy's open mouth. Daddy flailed his arms and struggled to sit up while making sounds Grammy had never heard before.

Grammy ran as fast as she could on her little legs through the house and outside to the cornfield. There she hid until Mamma called her and her seven older brothers and four older sisters in for supper.

As Grammy cautiously crawled onto her chair, Daddy looked at her and said, "You know, Francine, the strangest thing happened to me while I was taking my nap today. I dreamed that I was being attacked by a flock of chickens. What would make me have that dream?"

Grammy shook her head and very quietly ate supper. Relieved that she had gotten away with her discretion, she slowly relaxed but when she went to bed, she saw on her pillow, one very tangled chicken feather.

According to Grammy. Their priest had to struggle to keep from laughing when she confessed that she attacked her father with a feather.


Posted by Diana for Margaret

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