Chicken Pickings

I am SO stupid!

We had a roast chicken on Sunday, and yesterday morning I stripped all the remaining meat off the bones, popped it in a dish in the fridge, and boiled up the carcass for stock. I always pick over the bones again once I’ve made the stock, and give the pickings to the cats (well, cat – only Ron likes chicken, Reg prefers Tesco’s own brand cat food – go figure!).

Anyway, I put the chicken pickings into the fridge last night ready for Ron’s breakfast this morning, and when I went downstairs this morning, I grabbed the dish out of the fridge, transferred the chicken to Ron’s bowl, and Ron wolfed down the chicken, like he always does.

All OK – until I realised that I’d given Ron the remains of the leftover chicken earmarked for our sandwiches for lunch, rather than the chicken I’d stripped off the bones for him. Guess it’ll be cheese sandwiches for lunch today then – and more chicken for Ron’s supper!

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