Nobody here but us chickens…
That's what my Grandma used to say, when it was just the two of us in the kitchen. This always made me feel like we were up to something, members of a club whose inside jokes would be hushed should some interloper try to cop on.
The kitchen, of course, is the hub of the house, the nexus of all comings and goings, so you wouldn't expect that such a highly trafficked place would be a likely spot for sharing confidences. But it is, you see, because there is a language, there are gestures, there is a code that's universal among those in the know.
Come on in if you're curious. Door's always open, and there's room at the table.
There's nobody here but us chickens.
