Three Tiny Tyrants
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3/13/2019 0 Comments Chocolate ChickenChocolate chicken has become a favorite meal and is oft requested by the Trio. Unfortunately, the origins of chocolate chicken have a much more deceptive tale, which I'm about to share. Over my years of imprisonment, I have become adept at sneaking snacks that I don't want to share and even more adept at covering for my mouthful of deliciousness when confronted by a member of the Tiny Tyrant squad. As such, several months ago, as I sat next to the grill and watched the Trio play outside, I snuck some pre-dinner chocolate. When I say sneak, I really mean cram an entire bar into my mouth at once so the evidence is gone. Of course, Tiny chose that very moment to seek me out over some minor transgression from his underlings. As I struggled to answer him through my mouthful of chocolate, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"What are you eating?" he asked with full knowledge that 10 minutes prior I had denied him snacks because dinner was cooking. I thought fast. "Chicken. Want some?" I lied through my chocolate covered teeth, gesturing toward the chicken cooking on the grill. Tiny's eyebrows furrowed with disbelief. "It doesn't smell like chicken. It smells like chocolate." he stated bluntly, staring at me with the hostility of an investigative reporter digging up some dirt. At the word "chocolate", Big and Little bounded up. "Can we have some chocolate?!?" they begged. With no other options, and caught in the act, I did what any other imprisoned parent would do. I doubled down on my lie. I finished swallowing my "chicken". "Well, it smells like chocolate because it's chocolate chicken!" I said brightly. "What's chocolate chicken?" Tiny asked dubiously. "It's this recipe. It's chicken marinated in spices with a chocolate rub." I announced, like a salesman, throwing in details for added credibility. "Ok." said Tiny, still standing in front of me expectantly. "Ok what?" I asked. "I'll taste sone chocolate chicken." he said. I swallowed. "Great!" I said, turning toward my grilling chicken, marinated in vinegar and seasoning. I pulled off the crispiest chunk I could find, hoping the charring would cover for my deception. Tiny took a tentative bite while Big and Little watched for a verdict. "Yum! It's good! Can I have more?" Dumfounded by the success of my dubious scheme, I stared at him for a moment before happily dishing out more "chocolate" chicken to the crew. And so, that night, chocolate chicken became a mainstay meal within the Kingdom, to this day, the monarchy ignorant of its true nature and its creator forced into many an awkward conversation with family and friends requesting the recipe. It usually goes something like this: Family member: "Yum! Did you say this has chocolate in it?" Me: "Um. Yes. Yes it does." Family member: "Can I have the recipe?" Me (pausing for a moment, attempting to communicate with my eyes to no avail): "Um. Sure. I'll give it to you later...."
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AuthorAnna Christine is a working mother of three boys. She is a teacher, writer, learner, and a fierce advocate for inclusion. Writing is her catharsis for the tough days of parenting. Her writing has appeared on ScaryMommy: Archives
January 2019
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