Even if you marry the exact perfect husband, there will be some things that are important to you that maybe you never even knew about before meeting him.
For me, that was Miracle Mike. I had never heard of Miracle Mike before meeting Nathan. It turns out that Miracle Mike is a real thing, and that he really existed. He was a chicken, or more specifically, a rooster, and his farmer went out one Sunday to chop his head off with a hatchet for Sunday dinner.
Except the farmer missed the brain stem, and Miracle Mike became known as The Headless Chicken, touring for 18 months on the vaudeville circuit before choking to death in his hotel room one night like all famous rockstars.
I wish I were kidding. I’m not. Google it.
Some wives have fancy homes and decorate for fancy holidays.
But me? At the start of every summer, I decorate with chickens.
Nathan takes this very seriously. He is very introverted, but he plans this party every year with different games and activities, and he even makes prizes for participants. This was his 15th year to throw this party.
The party has several traditions, like starting out with a reading of the sonnet – yes, an actual sonnet – that Nathan wrote in Miracle Mike’s honor. He reads it while the guests hum America the Beautiful.
Another tradition is that guests bring chicken themed foods:
And this year, Nathan made Chicken-N-Waffles flavored ice cream. No, really. That was his contribution:
Then there are the games, like this Doughnut game, where he tied the treats to string and hung them from poles so that children had to use only their mouths to peck at the doughnuts to get bites. Why? Because Miracle Mike was fed with an eye dropper for those 18 long months.
And the team competition of drawing Miracle Mike while sharing wings:
And Peck Like Mike, the paper bag game:
Other years have other games, like the time people had to make chicken costumes out of nothing, or the times we played “Angry Peeps” using a homemade catapult system to fling those marshmellow peeps across my living room.
And there is always the chicken dance:
All mockery aside, it is hilarious and crazy and silly and an opportunity to bond with friends and relax with our children and just play together as a community. Life can be so hard, and we are all surviving so much, and there are times we feel pretty isolated from others while drowning in parenting and trying to keep Kyrie out of the hospital.
But the chicken party? That’s a touch of normal we get once a year, laughing with friends while our children play together.
Well, it’s “normal” with Nathan in charge of event planning.
Those are the natural consequences you get when marrying a husband in musical theater.
And that’s why I picked him, this guy who could endure alongside me on this very intense journey of mortality.
Even if he brought his (headless) chickens with him.