Chickens. People. What’s the difference?

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I recently had lunch with one of my really good friends. She spent half the time telling me an amazing story about a camping trip she and her Eagle Scout husband took. According to her, they ran into some trouble that would have resulted in tragedy for “regular” people, but because her husband is trained in dealing with unforeseen outdoor predicaments, they survived to tell about it.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it so when I got home I called my husband at work. Because mostly? He likes that.

Ring. Ring.

Hello.

Hey, it’s me.

Is everything OK?

Yeah. Of course.

Well can I call you back in half an hour? I’m in the middle of a conference call.

Then why did you answer the phone?

Because this is the third time you’ve called in 15 minutes. I was worried something was wrong.

(Oh. I forgot to mention that part) Well, something *is* wrong.

What is it?

Why weren’t you an Eagle Scout when you were younger?

Uh…What? Can we talk about this later?

I just spent AN HOUR listening to Robin tell me how Doug saved them from being eaten by a bear in the woods. AND he killed a wild chicken with his BARE HANDS. And do you know *how* he was able to do this? BECAUSE HE IS AN EAGLE SCOUT, THAT’S HOW.

Are you drunk?

What? NO I’M NOT DRUNK! I’m irritated that if you and I got stuck in the woods we’d surely die. And do you know *why* we’d die?

(Sigh) Because I’m not an Eagle Scout?

EXACTLY.

This might be the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever been a part of.

Well. I definitely know what to ask next time.

Next time what?

THE NEXT TIME I GET MARRIED. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?

I’m trying not to. But just so we’re clear, I don’t need to know how to kill a chicken with my bare hands.

And why is that?

Because if I get hungry I just use my trusty cell phone to order chicken that’s already been killed. I find it’s a more efficient use of my time.

Well. Doug could kill you using only his thumb.

I doubt they teach Eagle Scouts how to kill people.

Chickens. People. What’s the difference?

I’m hanging up now. Please don’t call me again in the middle of the day with this kind of bullshit. Save it for when I get home, OK?

Fine. But just so you know I’ll have nothing to talk about with you now. This was all I had.

Even better.

Hmmph. I wonder if *I* could become an Eagle Scout.

Why don’t you look into that and let me get back to work.

Whatever. Just don’t be surprised to find a pen full of chickens in the garage.

What are you talking about now?

SO I CAN PRACTICE FOR MY EAGLE SCOUT BADGE, GAH.

Click. (He hangs up on me)

As IF I would ever kill a chicken with my bare hands. I can’t even squish a bug.

It’s just so much fun fucking with him during the day. Yes. I am twelve.