They are here.
We. Have. Chickens.
Not that I have anything else going on around here… like a newborn baby to tend to. However, I digress.
Cupcake was barely 2 weeks old when The Man says, “I think we need chickens.” He called me from the farm store, where he and the three older girls had just finished a class on caring for chickens. I wish I could have seen my face. In a lack-of-sleep induced delirium, I agreed. And the next day there were 10 peeping chicks, making themselves quite at home in our foyer. That was well over a month ago and they now reside in the lovely little coop down by the barn. And now that they are outside, I miss them. Just a little.
I have zero ideas on what to do with the critters. This was his idea. And his responsibility. The Man and his chicks. (People say they don’t know if he’s talking about his animals or all of the young women he has at home.)
At present, I mostly just feed the baby. And change the baby. And make googly eyes at the baby. Like all the time. And I’m okay with that. I mostly forget the chicks are even around anymore now that they aren’t inside. And it’s pretty awesome that at the moment, I get a free pass to not have to care for them.
They aren’t quite so cute anymore. I had no idea how quickly those sweet little things would turn into… chickens, which aren’t nearly so cute. They are all quite feathered and strangely fierce-looking. My girls have named three of them. Mary. Joseph. And Hamburger. (Yeah, I have no idea either.) The Man just wanted to name them Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner.
Guess I’ll just pour myself another round of coffee while I wait for those farm-fresh eggs… tick, tock.
Love & Coffee.
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