Chicken Thief!

The conference was just fine. Met up with several nice women including a gal who reminded me a lot of one of my college roommates. So I wasn't total loser conference girl.

During the first (very long) day, we had a luncheon. There is apparently a tradition that at each conference, they present the participants with an animal that represents the host state. Since we were in Rhode Island, they found appropriately enough a Rhode Island Red hen. Nearly every seat had one. The coordinator underestimated the vast purchasing power of Rhode Island Red hen aficionados and they were back ordered for the remainder of the attendees.

Score! (said my brain) Don't need to shop for a souvenir for the bop. I made sure to sit at a place with hen already nesting. I chatted my way through a lackluster lunch with a lady who subsequently learned that I had a little guy at home, and blah blah this, and blah blah that. As lunch was over and we were gathering up our things, she reached out and snatched my chicken! No asking, no queries if I wanted it for my son - she didn't have kids! The bitch up and stole my chicken and took off like there was no tomorrow.

I was a bit flabbergasted, to say the freakin least. I wasn't going to raise a ruckus over a stuffed toy that I knew I could request later. But jea-zeus. I stuffed down a perfectly rational desire to tattle and simply told the coordinator to add me to the list of unlucky souls who had to wait for the damn hens to hatch from china and she handed me one more that she had on hand.

Seriously though. Stealing a chicken? From my poor little man waiting at home with hope and love that mommy's going to bring home something other than a hastily purchased airport t-shirt and the extra bag of peanuts from the flight?

Grow up chicken thief!