~ The World Needs More Rubber Chickens ~

I stopped by My Captain’s fire station yesterday bearing gifts.  One of his firefighters, Tom, and his wife, Leslie, just had a gorgeous baby boy named Parker.  This was the first time Tom had been back, so I stopped by to see how he was holding up as a brand spanking new father.

And of course, I brought goodies.

For Parker, the quintessential baby gift:

Drool Books.

But something more useful for Mommy and Daddy:

That’s right.  Caffeine.

I’m not going to blow smoke up their petooties and tell them parenthood is a cakewalk.  I’m all about getting things done.  Fixing the problem.  And let’s be honest. One of their biggest problems for the next 20 years will be sleep.  So Caffeine it is!

And plenty of it.

Better living through science.

But I didn’t just come bringing gifts for Tom and Leslie!  When I arrived, My Captain was just clearing an emergency down county where scaffolding had failed under some window washers. His Special Ops team was sent to help.   So I had a few minutes to wait….. and a freshly purchased rubber chicken.

If that wasn’t opportunity knocking, I don’t know what the sam-hill is.

Et Voila!

I plunked myself at Lt. Tom’s desk, and waited for My Captain to come back.  And then all I needed was a phone call to the station.

I wasn’t disappointed.

I totally live for this face.

Bonus:  It squeaks when it’s squeezed.  And you end up squeezing it when you pick up the receiver.

Now, I ask you, how can people in this world be unhappy when there are such things as squeaking rubber chickens?

Who can resist the redonkulousness of rubberized poultry?

No one, that’s who.