New Sheriff in Town? Pfff… There’s a New Peacock on the Block

Guys, I’m just truly not even goddamn sure how to throw you this curveball, so I’mma just go on ‘head and wind up.

Smoke and Mama G have a pet peacock.

I know that you think you read that wrong. You didn’t. Let me back up…

Last Friday, I had the day off of work and was out enjoying some mimosas with coworkers when the following picture (notice no words or explanation) came in from MamaG. Also, please disregard the fact that I didn’t know what it was… because, I mean, I knew what it was, but you must understand how surprising it would be to see a peacock on Smoke and MamaG’s farm somewhere in Middle America.

I mean, I just did some Googling for this post. Peacocks are native to India, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar. Smoke Goldenstein does not live in India, Sri Lanka, or Myanmar. I don’t think the man has been to Detroit, Michigan, guys. Let’s keep exploring the most random text conversation I’ve ever had in my life.

OK, so I’m not sure what’s going on with the “chatxxxxxx” number thing here (freaking Apple updates lately- so gross) but Maude and Mama G are both chiming in here. You can kind of deduce which texts came from which person… (hint: this is easily the first time in my life I have ever seen or heard my mother use the word “plume” and I can’t confidently say that I ever have either…) Let’s cut to the next day…

Now, as much as I wish Mama G was saying that she asked the peacock to dinner the next day, but that’s Maude commenting on another, simultaneous conversation going on in our thread. Notice I legitimately don’t care whether or not my cousin could make it to dinner because I really, truly cannot get over this peacock situation.

So, the conversation kind of stopped there. A weekend full of champagne, big football victories, engagements, and FaceTimes, and I kind of forgot about this saga until today, when I received THIS from Mama G:

“Just inherited the peacock.” -things I never thought my mom would text me. Now, I know you can barely see it, and I really planned to post one more screenshot of this conversation, but I can’t upload the next photo and I’m going to set my hair on fire. In a nutshell, Mama G tells me that I should shoot the peacock at Thanksgiving, and that my nieces would never forget it. Because we’re classy like that.

So, guys, there you have it. My parents have a pet peacock.

And I have a request. It’s been over 20 years since my family had a pet. (Please go search “Mario” on this site after you finish reading this post because there I’ve posted some real gems of pictures of that stupid-ass dog who once got his head stuck in a cat food can…) To celebrate this momentous occasion, I’d like to propose a competition. A “Name The Goldensteins’ New Peacock Competition”- you know, typical Thursday night.

I’ll be taking votes through Sunday night and will announce the winner then. I would say that I’d OK the top name choice with Smoke, Mama G, and Maude, but Maude got to name our last pet, and Smoke and Mama G just kind of leave me to my own devices, so long as I don’t hit them up for money (kidding). This one’s up to you, dear readers! Hit me with your best shot!

-Bev

P.S.- I’ve gotten a few submissions from my cousins so far today (they are all dying to meet the peacock) and some are wondering if a) this thing is a boy or a girl, and b) if the name has to start with a P.

First of all, I think that only dude peacocks have the “huge plumes” right? No? I mean, I don’t know much about animals, but I’m pretty sure this is a peacock, not a peahen. (I didn’t even have to Google that) Secondly, no, the name doesn’t have to start with a P, but it does have to be baller. I mean, when did you ever think you’d get to name your friend’s parents’ peacock? You didn’t. You sure effing didn’t.