I took a Ziploc bag of frozen pork chops out of the freezer and set them in the refrigerator to thaw. I decided to make one of my favorite crock pot recipes with them. I threatened the husband with a black eye if he ate the last of the sour cream because I needed it for that simple recipe. The next day, I carried my crock pot to my island in the kitchen and mixed the sour cream with an envelope of onion soup mix and decided to rinse the defrosted meat at the sink before adding to my recipe. Then I noticed something. They weren’t pork chops. To my surprise, I witnessed defrosted chicken thighs. Very big chicken thighs; it must have been a hippy chicken. The freezer bag’s label read Dec. ’15 in the husband’s writing. I assumed it contained pork chops. I was wrong. Write it like a man. Thinking like a man would think, he probably guessed that any fool could see these are chicken thighs when he placed them in a clear gallon freezer bag and put them in the fre