Overcoming Chicken

My first fear will be raw chicken. I'm not sure when my fear of raw chicken started, but it's pretty bad. I don't buy chicken. I don't eat chicken unless it's prepared by someone else.

I don't mind chickens, like the clucking, living, sqwacking variety. In fact, I'd love to have chickens of my own someday. But I couldn't eat them. They'd likely live to a natural death, after which I would bury them in my chicken graveyard with little headstones.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not entirely a bleeding heart. I just have a very strong aversion to any type of gore, and removing heads requires gore. Plucking feathers requires gore. And then there's the meat.

The nice thing about hamburger is that it doesn't resemble a cow or meat at all. It looks like worms. I like worms, at least I like nightcrawlers and worms in the yard. I don't eat them, but I consider them friendly. And hamburger comes in packages that you can cut open and directly dump in the skillet without touching it.

But unless you want to cook the entire package of chicken parts, you need to touch it. And I don't.

So this is the goal: Jackie and I will eat chicken for dinner. I will touch it. We're going to have chicken and dumplings, cooked by me. I'll likely cringe and twitch and she'll likely giggle the entire time, but I will conquer chicken.