Those Poor Chickens

Here's an excerpt from a conversation Adriana had with her dad yesterday.

ADRIANA: "I feel sad for the chickens."

KENNY: "Why do you feel sad about chickens?"

ADRIANA: "It's sad that animals have to die for people to get chicken to eat. Alysse [a friend from preschool] thinks that it's really sad. The chickens are sad that they die."

KENNY: "Oh, it is sad. But I really like eating chicken."

ADRIANA: "I really like eating chicken, too. Especially with sauce. Sauce with cranberries is my favorite!"

So apparently my daughter is not too scarred by the learning the whole "where does meat come from?" mystery (although I have to wonder how she'll react when she figures out how hamburger and the cute little cow she fed at the farm are related), and it doesn't look like we'll be having any meat boycotting. I also have to wonder if this conversation was prompted by our preschool field trip on Friday to the grocery store. Our tour included going back where they prepare and package all of their meat, but Adriana's only impression at the time was to share that she thought the room was "stinky." I thought so, too. Being a butcher would be WAY down on my list of jobs Suzanne would be willing to tolerate. I don't even like cooking meat for our dinner. In fact, just today Kenny was the one who cleaned and prepared the turkey that's cooking in our oven right now. It smells good. What kind of sauce should I make for it? :)