Project Chickens before the Eggs – Lesson 99 – It’s all in the timing

I’ve always been a big believer in kitchen timers. I use them in all aspects of my life. There’s just something about a start with a definite end that pleases my sensibilities. A timed event challenges my competitive spirit – I can do this in the minutes allowed. It appeals to my sense of fairness – 20 minutes in the laundry room at one time seems fair to me, 25 not so good, so let’s go for 20.

I use kitchen timers often when I’m writing – I’m going to sit in this chair and write for 30 minutes until this timer goes off. I use them to motivate my kids into action – let’s see how much you can get picked up before the timer goes off. I even have a resident timer in my bathroom for when I, um, wash those grays right out of my hair.

Imagine my delight, when I discovered that someone, somewhere has managed to combine two of my greatest loves. Timers and chickens!

This is the first timer I found. It was actually in an educational toy store tucked right in there amongst the multiplication and division flashcards. We imaginatively call it the Elvis-the-chicken timer.

Elvis-the-chicken

It’s kind of dorky, (kind of?), does a horrible impersonation of Elvis (seriously anyone who has wavy black hair, pouty lips and a southern affectation thinks they can fool anyone) but it works well and we adore it.

Originally used to make sure my youngest daughters stay in the shower long enough to at least let some of the summer dirt run off (ironically, it was also used to limit the amount of time spent in a shower by my teenagers who think that long shower taking should be considered an Olympic Sport.) Elvis-the-chicken now stays downstairs to be used when the kids need some extra incentive. Who could refuse to pick up a cluttered TV room when your good buddy Elvis is egging you on?

And speaking of eggs, there is this lovely little gem. The Egg egg-timer.

Egg egg-timer

This one is mine. All mine. She sits on my desk regarding my work and encouraging me to write. She is my gentle muse. Write for 30 minutes she whispers to me and then twist me up and write for 30 more.

I relax in her presence and let the words flow knowing that at all times, she’s got her eyes on me.

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Filed under Project Chickens before the Eggs, Teaching kids, The Family

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