Peck Peck Peck

"Being a parent is like being pecked to death by chickens."

This speaks to me. More frequently than I care to admit. Which I just did, which says too much about me. Again. Anyway, when hubster and I are in a negative zone, or I should say, when the kids are in a negative zone, one of us will simply say, "Peck." Two minutes later, the other replies, "Peck." This can continue for sometime depending on how long the negative cloud hangs around. Astute Things may take notice of pecking and inquire. More often than not, we shrug and continue until it seems the cloud has disappeared. How this does anyone any good is beyond me. Maybe it's some trippy psychological technique that hasn't been officially approved yet prevents us from ripping out hair or leaping from windows. God knows there are enough science "experiences" in this house. I don't need further research or even affirmation. Keeping my hair in tact and windows unbroken is good enough, and we all know good enough is great for me.


    Peck, peck, peck. I will be trying your technique!


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