I was flipping a spatchcocked chicken in a Dutch oven with a pair of tongs. Ari, who was watching from a distance, said, “It’s a dog!”
“It’s not a dog,” I replied. “It’s a chicken.”
“It’s a dog,” Ari said.
My stomach turned — as it always does — when Ari declared that the whole chicken was a dog. Clearly, I am not a vegetarian. However, the idea of cooking a dog on my stovetop makes me bristle.
And, yes, every time I make a whole chicken, Ari says “it’s a dog.” This kid knows what dogs look like. I don’t know why he thinks whole chickens are dogs. For now, I will chalk this up to him being two years old!