That yakety bird popped from the clock and cuckooed six times.
“What’s for dinner,” I asked Nan. “Fish,” she answered. “No,” I screamed. Fishes were my friends. I owned two fish. I couldn't eat one of their scally cousins.
Mom knew this and rushed to tell Nan. She was sweating, as she flipped fish in her sizzling cast iron skillet in the hot pantry next to the kitchen. “Tell her it’s chicken,” she whispered to Mom.
My dinner was great. I had a grilled cheese sandwich and potato chips.