Fowl Play
In my younger days of wild women and song, (Ok I watched Charlie’s Angels and sang in the car), I had a good friend called Wally. Wally, an easy going type of guy, had a not so easy going girlfriend. The girlfriend in turn had a mother who was; let’s say a little over helpful, bordering on plain interfering. Wally christened her Sonny. You may recall the captured British hostage, Jackie Mann. He had a wife with ridiculous sunglasses, called Sonny. Well Wally’s future mother in law wore the same.
Like any good mother, Sonny always looked out for her daughter and when said daughter announced she was buying a house with Wally and they were moving in together, Sonny broke into action. It was the little things that started it. Suggestions of paint colours for the living room, a little vase discreetly left on the fireplace. One day Wally arrived home to find Sonny mowing his lawn. Sunglasses in situ.
The one thing that she did every weekend and is the crux of this story, dear reader, was the purchase of a chicken. Religiously, on a Saturday she would buy a fresh chicken and while the happy couple was out on a Saturday afternoon, probably looking at tiles or carpets for the new abode, Sonny would sneak into the house and leave the fowl in the fridge. Wally told me how he hated coming home to open the fridge to find the beast beside his eggs and orange juice. Don’t get me wrong, he loved chicken. It was just the way it was done, yes in kindness, but there was a hold there as well.
To cut to the chase, the relationship between the two lovers went stale as young love often does. Tom Jones sang “It’s sad so sad to watch love go bad”, but the Welsh warbler would have written stronger words if he had, had Sonny for a mother in law. You see things got bitter, and the house had been bought, mortgaged to the hilt. The girlfriend moved back to live with Sonny and Wally stayed on in the house. Sonny was having none of it. Her daughter was not to be outdone. While half of the house was in her name, half of the house was still hers! She encouraged her dearest to go to the house every now and then and Sonny did her part by continuing to cut the grass. While Wally sat inside reading the Herald!
However, the girlfriend couldn’t do it anymore. The strain of the break up was taking its toll and rather than fight and scream she stopped going to the house at all. Much to her mother’s annoyance.
Wally, who himself was distraught with the upheaval was glad peace had broken out and after weeks of fighting, welcomed the solitude of the now empty house.
That was until one Saturday afternoon. He had arrived home having spent the morning in town and headed to get a drink from the fridge. He later told me, it was like the scene in “Sleeping with the Enemy” where Julia Roberts opens the press to find all of the cans have been put back in place. For when Wally opened the fridge there on the second shelf was the statement of intent. A big pasty five pound de-feathered chicken.
Wally reconciled with his lover and within a year they were married. I was best man at the wedding and sitting at the top table beside me, sunglasses in her hair, was Sonny, smiling contentedly.
The waiter came around and I heard him ask, “Beef or Chicken Madam?”
I looked over at Wally who in turn looked back at me before placing his head back into his dinner.
“I think I’ll go for the Beef.” Sonny said.
In my younger days of wild women and song, (Ok I watched Charlie’s Angels and sang in the car), I had a good friend called Wally. Wally, an easy going type of guy, had a not so easy going girlfriend. The girlfriend in turn had a mother who was; let’s say a little over helpful, bordering on plain interfering. Wally christened her Sonny. You may recall the captured British hostage, Jackie Mann. He had a wife with ridiculous sunglasses, called Sonny. Well Wally’s future mother in law wore the same.
Like any good mother, Sonny always looked out for her daughter and when said daughter announced she was buying a house with Wally and they were moving in together, Sonny broke into action. It was the little things that started it. Suggestions of paint colours for the living room, a little vase discreetly left on the fireplace. One day Wally arrived home to find Sonny mowing his lawn. Sunglasses in situ.
The one thing that she did every weekend and is the crux of this story, dear reader, was the purchase of a chicken. Religiously, on a Saturday she would buy a fresh chicken and while the happy couple was out on a Saturday afternoon, probably looking at tiles or carpets for the new abode, Sonny would sneak into the house and leave the fowl in the fridge. Wally told me how he hated coming home to open the fridge to find the beast beside his eggs and orange juice. Don’t get me wrong, he loved chicken. It was just the way it was done, yes in kindness, but there was a hold there as well.
To cut to the chase, the relationship between the two lovers went stale as young love often does. Tom Jones sang “It’s sad so sad to watch love go bad”, but the Welsh warbler would have written stronger words if he had, had Sonny for a mother in law. You see things got bitter, and the house had been bought, mortgaged to the hilt. The girlfriend moved back to live with Sonny and Wally stayed on in the house. Sonny was having none of it. Her daughter was not to be outdone. While half of the house was in her name, half of the house was still hers! She encouraged her dearest to go to the house every now and then and Sonny did her part by continuing to cut the grass. While Wally sat inside reading the Herald!
However, the girlfriend couldn’t do it anymore. The strain of the break up was taking its toll and rather than fight and scream she stopped going to the house at all. Much to her mother’s annoyance.
Wally, who himself was distraught with the upheaval was glad peace had broken out and after weeks of fighting, welcomed the solitude of the now empty house.
That was until one Saturday afternoon. He had arrived home having spent the morning in town and headed to get a drink from the fridge. He later told me, it was like the scene in “Sleeping with the Enemy” where Julia Roberts opens the press to find all of the cans have been put back in place. For when Wally opened the fridge there on the second shelf was the statement of intent. A big pasty five pound de-feathered chicken.
Wally reconciled with his lover and within a year they were married. I was best man at the wedding and sitting at the top table beside me, sunglasses in her hair, was Sonny, smiling contentedly.
The waiter came around and I heard him ask, “Beef or Chicken Madam?”
I looked over at Wally who in turn looked back at me before placing his head back into his dinner.
“I think I’ll go for the Beef.” Sonny said.