Today, my six year old son asked me to make him a sandwich for lunch. I asked his preference, and he said he wanted the black chicken.

I looked at him quizzically. He said, "You know, what you used to make my sandwich the other day. The stuff you cooked on Sunday. The black chicken."

Ah, the roast beef. Probably thanks to Chick-Fil-A, this boy doesn't know the difference between a cow and a chicken. (Cows are fer lookin' perty; chikens are fer eatin'.)