Aaaahhhh. What a nice relaxing time for Mother Hen. For once, she manages to get away from the Chicken flock, sitting quietly on the green grass doing practically nothing on top of the quiet green hill on a sunny day. (Did we say ‘quiet’ twice in one sentence? Must be very quiet. And green. We said green twice as well.)
Just Mother and her quiet friend, Ellie–short for ‘Elegant Crystal Butterfly Hair Clip’. Yup, of the Clip family. Clipken’s very own elder sister.
“So what’s with your little sister Clipken, El?” Mother Hen asks Ellie.
Ellie’s eyes go out of focus and get a bit teary. (She is a clip with butterfly form, so it is easy to pinpoint the eyes. Or so we think.)
“I don’t know, Mo. (Ellie’s nickname for Mother. We bet she is the only one who DARES to call Mother that. What nerve a hair clip has. Maybe it is because of the plastic or that fake diamond she has.) It started from that d*mn fortune teller telling Clipsy that she would one day be a chicken,” she explains.
“I don’t mind that,” Mother responds. “It is just that your Clipken is sort of a desperate social climber. She tries too hard to mingle. She is acting out and not everybody is able to see the humor in it.”
“I see,” says Ellie, slowly flapping her beautiful purple furry butterfly wings playfully.
[Camera shifting to Chickendom]
“Who wants to play?!” one spring chicken asks a flock of friends. “Me! Me! Me!” Clipken enthusiastically screams, waving her wings rapidly. The flock freezes. “It’s time for bed.” Everybody turns his/her tail, closes his/her eye lids, and goes to sleep.
“Now remember: Whoever gets to the fence first is the winner!” shouts a chick. “Alright, count me in. Never underestimate Super Clipken!,” you-know-who glows and starts to run. Other chicks start to run too, but to the fence on the opposite side.
Clipken polishes her yellow featherless body, whistling a happy tune. She smiles proudly and stands tall on top of an egg. A matured female chicken approaches and carelessly sits on top of Clipken. Then falls a sleep. zzzzzz.
[Points made. Chickendom zooms out. Returning to Mother and Ellie.]
“Honestly, you need to do something about that, Ellie darling. I think you are the only one who can get through to her,” Mother says, choosing her words carefully.
“I see,” says Ellie, slowly flapping her beautiful purple furry butterfly wings playfully.
‘I see?’ Does she, really? We are getting suspicious here. It just seems a bit fishy (or clipsy?) that Ellie too likes to flap her so called wings. Perhaps it runs in the family. We wonder whether there is hereditary disease among the Clip species. Must check Chickipedia on this. Or maybe better in the Clipkipedia.
“Oh well, let’s worry about that later and enjoy this moment, shall we? Listen to that sound,” Mother says, titling her head, smiling, eyes wide shut.
“What sound?” Ellie asks.
“Exactly,” Mother smiles warmly.
Aaaaawwwwwhhh, leave it to Mother to make such romantically smart remark. Hugs hugs hugs. Nudge nugde. Hugs hugs hugs. We luv our Mother. Hail to the queen!
Mother’s eyes twinkle like we have rarely seen them before. (Except when she is with or even catches a glimpse of Emilio, of course. Woo-hoo! Gossip time!!!!)
From a distance, a familiar petite yellow figure is approaching rather hastily. Mother squints her eyes and smiles. Not to worry. It is a friend. The nice relaxing time shall persist. “Come, YC, sit beside me. Perfect timing…for you,” Mother Hen says, though not in so many words.
YC quietly snuggles under Mother’s right wing. (Unless you see it from the opposite angle, then you might consider it as left wing. Well, actually no, it is still Mother’s right wing, really.) And she stays there. Silently. She looks so peaceful. And happy. *hugs*
The wind blows gently. “Yes, of course, you too, Boo. Anytime.”
[pic taken from here.]
PS: Have a great holiday!!! Share some dirts with us when you return. *Eyes glittering with curiosity, hungry for juicy gossips.*
Big Bro, to put it lightly, is a total weirdo.
