Ain’t No Thing Like a Chicken Wing

I remember as a child always sitting down to dinner as a typical nuclear family of the 1970’s.  Dad came home from work and dinner was on the table by 5:30 p.m.  Chicken was cheap so we had it often.  My mom always served everyone else what would be considered the favored parts of the bird—Dad was served the breast, the kids had the legs, and Mom always served herself last and ate the wings.

As I became a teen—strong willed and full of angst—I found myself angry with my mother for not thinking she deserved better than the wings.  It wasn’t until I was in my early 30’s that I mustered the courage to confront her about the chicken wings.

I was stunned at her response.  Mom laughed and said, “Lisa, don’t you get it?  I did.  The wings are my favorite!”  I almost fell over with laughter at my own foolishness more than her answer.

The assumptions we make about others, various situations, and ourselves is just a story.  It’s not the truth.  Not liking chicken wings was my story about my mother—not a shred of truth in it.  And the crazy thing?  I let it bother me the entire time I was growing up and into adulthood because I refused to examine the possibilities or ask the question.

This week I challenge you to consider something you’ve been carrying around for awhile—a story you have told yourself that may not be true.  It could be about a family member, a co-worker even yourself.  Ask yourself, “is it true?”  “How do I know it’s true?”  You might just learn, “there ain’t no thing like a chicken wing.”