I’m Not Going Anywhere, But…



I took a giant package of chicken thighs out of the freezer; you know the kind that they sell at Costco that could feed a polygamist family. Carter was sitting at the counter when I did it and since I did not take my huge kitchen sheers to the package to separate it into the smaller compartments she asked me if I was planning on cooking the whole thing.


“Yes,” I told her. Then she got a tiny smile on her face and she said, “Who died?” Now I know it does not sound good that my child smiles when asking if someone has passed away, but since she had not seen me crying she was sure it was not someone she knew. I am sure you are wondering what the connection between a giant package of chicken and someone dying is?


I make fried chicken when I want to bring food to a friend who has lost a loved one. It is the only time I make fried chicken. In our household it is called, “Somebody died?” fried chicken. It came to be known that because anytime Russ walked in the house and I was frying chicken the first words out of his mouth were, “Somebody died?”


Almost all of the time I make the chicken makes Carter happy. First she rarely knows the person who passed away and it is the only time she gets the chicken. In actuality she does not like the chicken the way I really make it and I have to doctor a couple of pieces just for her, but still it is the only time I cook her fried food of any kind.


When I pulled the chicken out this time Carter asked me if I had all my funeral recipes written down somewhere. “No, I know them by heart,” I told her. Carter is rarely interested in learning to cook so the next thing came as a surprise to me.


“Well, you better teach me how to make the chicken and the other things,” she said. “Why, are you going to help me?” I said in a much too surprised tone.


“No, but I think I should know how to make them for when you die. I am sure Daddy will be much to sad to cook so I am going to have to do it.”


“Aren’t you going to be too sad?”


“Yes, but I’ll want the chicken.”


For the record I’m not planning on going any place. If I feel the vapors coming on I am going to be sure to make one last batch of “Somebody died?” fried chicken with Carter by my side. I don’t share the recipe with anyone, but I don’t want it to die with me. The only problem I see is that Carter might not pay close attention to the real way I make it and just learn the “Carter modification.” Maybe I should put the real recipe in my will so it can be published upon my departing.

One Comment on “I’m Not Going Anywhere, But…”

  1. Stori Cadigan says:

    O.K. now I really need to know this recipe….I swear i won’t share it …except maybe with Carter…..

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