A few weeks ago I was saying goodnight to Timmy and absent-mindedly picked a feather off his blanket. I made some small (and probably dumb) joke at the time - something about a party in his room at night. He got very quiet (BIG clue that something serious is coming) and very serious.
He looked at me and said that he we need to clean his room. I asked why . . . . .
"Because I have chickens in my room!"
Chickens?
Well, duh! The feather on his blanket was OBVIOUSLY from the free roaming chicken that apparently is a mute and only shows up at night (Vampire chicken? Maybe we should start keeping garlic in his room) . . . .
NOT from his feather pillow.
Remember, we are in the World of Timmy . . . . .
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