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#353 | Of aunts, preachers and chicken selfies
I have an aunt who lives in the Welsh countryside. We've never met. I know her through the delightful stories other relatives have told me about her shenanigans.
One that stands out is the time when this aunt and her two siblings were living in Karachi, courtesy of their diplomat father. All three were less than ten years old then and had no inclination to partake in the religious lessons scheduled every Saturday afternoon.
The first teacher they had was an old man who arrived with his holy book and a bag of kittens (the more pragmatic readers may ask "why". I ask, "why not?"). He would begin his lesson and then slowly but surely slip into a restful afternoon slumber. His students would obviously spend the rest of the "lesson" playing with his kittens. I challenge you to find a more perfect arrangement!
Unfortunately, their father caught wind of this scheme of things and terminated the teacher's services.
His replacement was a strict and serious man, determined to undo the damage caused by his predecessor and steer them back on the right path. His lessons dragged on and on as he read from the scriptures while my aunt and her siblings mourned the absence of their kitten companions.
After a few lessons, my aunt, then five, had had enough. As the youngest of the three, she promised her older siblings that she would take matters into her own hands. "Just wait and watch", she said, "he won't come back again".
That afternoon, a few minutes into the lesson, she got up, as if to ask a question or excuse herself, and pulled down her tighty whities and confidently urinated on the holy book the teacher was reading from.
As her siblings roared with laughter, the teacher, stunned, scandalised and deeply offended, left the premises, never to return.
The sheer outrageousness of this episode bowled their father over. He joined in their amusement when he heard. Needless to say, that was the end of their religious education once and for all.
The other anecdote about this aunt that tickles my funny bone is her choice of names for her pet chickens: Korma, Kebab, and Tikka. How deliciously dark. If you have questions about their eventual fate - let them fade into the ether.
Today's thing is chicken.photos, a site where you can browse chicken selfies. Yes. They really are selfies. The makers have explained how the tech works on their website - what a time to be alive!
The chickens don't have their names listed. Maybe you can come up with some. Here are my suggestions: Shawarma, Rezala, and Cutlet.