Que Sera Sera

This may sound ridiculous but I've got chicken legs flowing out of my ears. I must have consumed over 50 pairs in the last week or so and I am told by our poultryman that I'm about to create a shortage in the market. Perhaps I should explain.

It all began when Mum started clearing out her drawers and came upon an old recipe book, long forgotten. She thumbed through it and then exclaimed, "Aha! I've found just the right recipe for your legs!" Well, if I may say so, I think my legs are as stunning as those of any top model, but Mum did not agree. "Behind that window dressing, your legs are weak and limp," she said. And that's how I came to indulge in pot after pot of slimy chicken legs night after night....

Mum brewed them with garlic stems, red beans and red dates - all guaranteed to drive the "wind" out and produce legs as strong as the Six Million Dollar Man's. It looked like a witch's brew but fortunately didn't taste too bad. After a few days, I got used to the taste. I could even say I liked it. The problem is I think I'm beginning to strut like a chicken. I'm also having nightmares of thousands of legless chickens beseeching me for their legs back. I asked Mum if she had an antidote. She scratched her head, searched her recipe book and said, "Sorry, dear. Nothing."

With due respect to her good intentions and knowledge of ancient remedies, I firmly told Mum I would not be eating any more chicken legs as I was not prepared to turn into a chicken overnight. She started to protest, then shrugged and went back into the kitchen. She was singing "Que Sera Sera" in the way Doris Day used to sing it.

Yes, whatever will be, will be. I couldn't agree more.

P.S. Anyone want the recipe?