Butchy the Chicken Whisperer chap 7.

My oldest sister said I look like a miniature bookkeeper with my wire rim glasses. She said all I need is a green eye shade. I hate my glasses. I just don’t know how many pairs of glasses I broke. Broken while pushing and shoving. Wrestling and fist fights at school or at church. But you know what; Hop-along Cassidy didn’t break his glasses. Want to know why? Hoppy never wore glasses. Well maybe when he got old. Maybe at about 90-years old and then he broke his glasses. Possibly when he was jumping his horse through hoops of fire. Not really sure. But anyway, Flash Gordon didn’t wear glasses. Shirley Temple didn’t wear glasses. So, why do I have to wear glasses? Only because my mom told me so. So how does an eight year old become a movie hero while wearing glasses? Don’t know. In the mean time I shall remain as a certified and licensed Chicken Whisperer.

Mean while back on Simmons Avenue, Donnie my new friend from Milwaukee and me collected newspapers. Nearby was a place that gave us five-cents a pound for newspapers. They said they recycle them into new newspapers. How did they do that? Scrub off the print and print again on the cleaned off papers? So we went door to door asking for old or new newspapers. We were doing a pretty good business until the schools started to collect newspapers as well. Then people we got newspapers from started asking if we were collecting papers for the elementary so we told them no. Then they told us we only give papers to non-profit organizations. Well we thought. If Donnie and me aren’t non-profit I don’t know what is. We don’t have a president or a bank account. We don’t write checks or have offices downtown. For goodness sakes we surely are non-profit. We have never earned enough money collecting papers to exceed one dollar in gross revenue in one week. No! Not at all.

Then the same recycle business that collected papers said they also collect rags. Rags? We have lots of rags laying about our house. Some in my closet and sister’s closet. So, another source of revenue. Then business was going pretty good until the school started collecting rags also. Well, here we go again. How do Donnie and me stay in business when the fragging school becomes our main competitor? Good grief Charlie Brown! Guess we’ll have to go back to collecting Coke bottles. Running one’s own business surely ain’t easy. I know what. Maybe perhaps me and Donnie should learn to pan for gold. What do ya think huh?

Published by Charles Oldenfatt the Curmudgeon

If I told you the truth about myself you would think what a wad of chewed gum stuck under a church pew I am. Dull. Ordinary .old and fat

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