So today my friend Miriam who is also my neighbor came down to borrow some vegetable oil which she later texted me and said had stunk up her whole house. My apologies Miriam! I had no idea it had expired.
While she was here however we got to chatting outside amongst the various fowl my husband has collected. With all seriousness in her voice and worry in her eyes she asks me, "do you think David has problem?"
Now, I'm aware most women might take offense to this, but really I'm not stupid. My response was quick and confident, "hell yes Miriam. I know he has a problem."
Why do I know Mr. Macias has a problem? At 4 or 5 o'clock this morning he was up after I had a nervous breakdown begging for him to move his baby chicks out of the living room. Between our new puppy whining and baby chicks chirping I couldn't get any sleep. If I don't get any sleep, I am not a happy camper!!! Well he moved them, yep he sure did. When I suggested the move originally I said out of the living room. Apparently I was suppose to say, out of the living room, through the back door, outside, across the yard and into the chicken coop because he moved them a good 5 feet into the laundry room.
So yes, my husband has a problem. He loves his poultry a little too much, just like I like shiny things too much. I defiantly think there are worse habits a husband can have, and yes this chicken hoarding problem drives me up the wall to the point that I want rip my hair out, but if worse comes to worse I guess we won't go hungry.
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