Them chickens have bones – no really, they do


When DH and I were on our honeymoon in St. Lucia we took a day tour around the island by boat. We were part of a large group of vacationers on the tour, about 30 of us. It was a lovely day to be out on the water, with the sun shining, music playing. Laughter and chatter all around us.

We stopped at midday in Soufrière, a quaint fishing village, for lunch. The lone hotel in the village served us a delicious meal of fish, chicken, rice and vegetables. Simple, local fair but oh-so-yummy.

After lunch, DH and I clamoured  into the van that would take us back to the boat. Some other tourists had made it back to the van before us, and as we settled into our seats, one of them turned to us and said, “Can you believe that meal?”

We were immediately enthusiastic in our reply, thinking she was as blown away as we were by the tasty fair.

Alas, no.

She quickly explained that she found there to be – and I quote – “too many bones in the chicken.”

I think my jaw might have dropped a bit when she said that.

La Haut Resort-Soufriere-St. Lucia
How can you complain about lunch when this is your view?

Um…lady…guess you weren’t aware? But chickens have a skeletal system. It’s what allows them to run around all cockamamy clucking and flapping their wings to the world at large.

Yes ma’am, them chickens have bones.

Caught up in what she felt was so appallingly wrong with the meal, this woman couldn’t (or wouldn’t) enjoy the beauty of the experience.

An absolutely gorgeous, tropical sun-shiny day.

A leisurely lunch on a covered veranda overlooking the water.

A lunch we didn’t have to shop for, prepare or even clean up.

Our sole responsibility was to enjoy the experience. I guess she couldn’t.

Actively seeking the good

To bring this story to present-day relevance, I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about how much I’ve complained about DD’s temper tantrums, her power struggles with us and sudden lack of interest in sleeping in until a reasonable hour. (These 4 a.m. wake up calls are killing me.)

I need to stop and remind myself of the good times between all of these trying moments. Games of hide-and-seek, giggles while DD sits in her Cozy Coupe playing Tim Horton’s drive-though (ya, for real), dinners of pretend soup. You get the idea.

If I let myself think of these challenging moments as pesky chicken bones, I’ll lose sight of the bigger picture: these struggles are a natural part of life with a toddler. A part of DD growing into herself and her autonomy.

When all hell is breaking loose and DD is not at her best, I want to focus on the truth of those moments.

She’s tired. She’s hungry. She’s frustrated. She just wants to see how far her boundaries stretch.

I want to remind myself to actively seek the good. Because woven in between all of those less-then-stellar moments are some incredibly sweet moments.

Pesky chicken bones be damned.

* Chicken image sourced via


6 Responses to “Them chickens have bones – no really, they do”

  1. Connie

    Great post Mel! And so very very true. Here’s hoping you smile at the next 4 am wake up call. I know I will.

    • melgallant

      Thanks Connie! It’s all about perspective, right? I need to recognize that in a few year’s time I won’t really remember the 4 a.m. wake up calls as such a big deal.

  2. Tracey

    Awesome post. My youngest was born with traits such as stubbornness, a temper, perfectionism and sensitivity. She’s intense! But, I’ve always said those same traits will serve her well as she grows, AND, as hard as she rails against, she also LOVES with equal/more passion. In difficult moments, it’s definitely hard to not just see them bones, but I can tell by this post that you’re already embracing the whole experience-bones and all 🙂

    • melgallant

      Thanks Tracey! While DH and I can’t let inappropriate behaviour slide, it is our responsibility to understand where it’s coming from. Sometimes I wonder if she looks at us like, “C’mon! don’t you see why I’m so upset?!” I want her to understand that we do see it; that we hear her even if we don’t like the behaviour she uses to express herself.

  3. Amy @ Lily's Pad

    Mel, I owe you! I will remember this column the next time Little insists on wearing her pajamas on her head and running around the house in a diaper full of poo nstead of getting dressed and going down to breakfast and eating like a damn human being WTF?? Yes, I will think of chicken.


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