Heather brought home one of those rotisserie chickens from the grocery store for dinner tonight. I was on my way to my work out when she called to tell me what just happened. She was starting to cut the chicken when Joie pointed to one end and said that was the mouth. Heather said "that's not the mouth, that's the tushy."
"But I want that to be the mouth," Joie replied.
"You'll have to talk to God about that," Heather responded.
Joie said, "Oh, I have to talk to God about that?".
"Yes," Heather said.
Joie put her hands together then bowed her head in prayer and said in a whisper "I want that to be the mouth," all the while pointing to the chicken's tushy.
