So this past winter I go online to order chickens. Yes, you heard me. I went shopping online to find chicks for sale. I went to a website and literally started shopping for chickens...and not just any chickens either. Cool, rare breed chickens that would arrive as chicks. Through the mail. THROUGH THE MAIL! Yes, these tiny little chicks are going to be hatched one day and shipped the next. OH how they will need hugs when they get here! Can you imagine your newborn baby being born and then SHIPPED the next day!? Holy moly!
So winter passes and the spring flowers come and the chicks come and go at Tractor Supply and I wait patiently for my little chickies to arrive. I gather my baby chick feed, dig the baby chick watering jar out of storage and check and double check my email. Then it arrives. The email from California Hatchery -- "Your chicks have been shipped. Please make sure you are home to accept them.". I forwarded the email on to my husband with the addition of:
I was a bit excited.
SO the day the chicks are going to arrive is our first day with our new nanny/mother's helper/wonderful teenage girl that saves my sanity....and I am out trying to get some work done, stopping in the post office on the hour every hour to see if the chicks have arrived. No luck. Of course, the last time I stop by, the post office says "oh yeah, she went out with those a while ago. Is anyone home?". Of course, someone is home, but it is the new nanny/mother's helper/wonderful teenage girl that is going to save my sanity. ...and someone is going to walk up to her and give her a box of 2 day old chickens. oh my.
So I race home and the boys come outside running and yelling "The chicks are here! Mommy, the chicks came!"
"Where are they?"
"In the coop!"
oh no. The coop. The tiny newborn chicks are in the coop.
You don't get it.
Putting newborn chicks into a hobby farm chicken coop is akin to putting your newborn baby on the stage at a biker bar. Not to mention that it had been raining for the past 3 days straight, so the coop was dry, but just barely and hadn't been mucked, so you can imagine that it is not quite the place for pristine, tiny newborn chicks.
So I run.
Literally run out to the coop and it is almost funny if it weren't a little frightening. These tiny TINY little chicks are walking around, hopping on tiny little feet around the bottom of the coop. Nearby the grown up chicks aren't paying them a lick of attention, but accidentally stepping on them every once in awhile with their feet that are quite literally AS BIG AS THE CHICKS THEMSELVES! I wrench open the door and start collecting the little things, one little wiggly chick into the box. Two, three, four. Whew -- they are all safe -- they are all ok.
I walk back into the house with my little chicklings and my little darlings come running up to see them. 20 minutes of chick petting later, the chicks are left at peace. ...and I think the babysitter will come back...at least I hope she will...
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