Hmmmm...how do I put this delicately?

On Sunday, we had the Sunday paper laying around.
Henry zeroed in on the front page of the Fred Meyer ad.
I saw him looking at it, and looking at it and pondering
(he puckers his mouth when he is deep in thought).

Then he asked me if that (pointing to the leg) was the chicken's leg?

"Yes, that is the leg." I replied.

"So, is this he's buns?" Henry asked.

"Yes, I suppose that technically are his buns" I replied, happy he used the PC term for our house.

Long pause....silently praying that this wasn't going to go any farther.
(For those who don't know, I don't love working with whole dead chickens)

"Where are his eyes?"

"He doesn't have eyes....er, he is a 'cooked chicken'", I said, slightly unsure of myself, hoping my Back Up* is on his way into the room.

* Nathan.

Henry thinks about this for a while.....

"How sad.....A chicken who doesn't have eyes....."

And that was that. Phew!