Pooh Bear is in crisis. Today we discovered definately her chicken, which she named Belle, is a ROOSTER. For those of you unfamiliar, roosters are male and are the only ones who crow at sunrise. Hens, females have a gentle soft purr when "talking" and only get squawky loud when there's danger. Now this may not bother others, but our four year old girl is quite offended. She only likes girls. Boys are stinky and stupid.
Was it a mistake to take her to window and watch as Belle began to practice his immature crows? To me, it's funny to observe- like an awkward adolescent boy whose voice cracks and squeaks wishing he could simply maintain dignity during this developmental transition.
As she looked down at Belle through the pane, Pooh Bear's lips began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. She exclaimed, "But Belle just can't be a boy. I don't want a rooster." Her daddy comforted her in his arms and said, "Let name him Beast from Beauty and the Beast instead."
"No! He's not a prince. I want his name to be Frankenstein now."
Frankenstein it is. I will blackmail her of this when she's a teenager.
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