Okay ya'll. I don't like to start conspiracies, but this had to be said. No, I'm not selling eggs, don't even get me started, because then I might do it, and I'm already up to my neck in chickens. That's right! Those cute little twirping chicks at Tractor Supply are like crack because how in the world can you pass up taking home those little sweet butt nuggets? You can't. I was minding my own business, trying to get some food for our dog, Mark. That's why I walked in the place. I came out with twenty, yes I said it, twenty, new baby chicks! Did I need a few baby chicks, yes I did, but did I need twenty? Heck no, I did not!
I really don't know how it happened. I mean I was walking to the dog food isle and those dang chirping sounds of happiness hypnotized me, and forced me to come closer. I tried to ignore their calls, but their chirping got louder! Michelle, we need you, who will love us if you don't take us home and make us your loving companions? What if someone takes us home and doesn't feed us, or they forget to give us water and treats? How could you live with yourself if you don't take a few home. Fine! Their conversation was so loud I couldn't ignore them!!!
Dang it, I'll take a few of you home. I'm sure Henrietta (my easter egger) and Hey Hey my Polish rooster will be okay with a couple of new additions. Then their mind melding little selves started telling me if I didn't choose more that I'd be separating a family. What kind of heartless woman would separate a family? Not this woman! Not on my watch. Fine, I told myself, I'll get six. Six wouldn't be that many, and I could make sure they were never lonely. What if some of them didn't make it? I'd heard that sometimes young chicks didn't survive and so I decided to get ten. I swear they were taking over my mind and FORCING me to have an entire flock that could band together and save the world from all evil.
How I ended up with twenty Golden Laced Wyandotte's, I still have no idea. That dang chicken math conspiracy was so spot on!!! Have you ever raised twenty chicks inside your house with three different brooder boxes going? My house now smells like the inside of cow barn and I'm feeding and watering these little (well not so little now at 5 1/2 weeks) seductresses three times a day and changing out their bedding once a day. I'm strongly convinced now that they are mind reading, hypnotists, little cult starting cluckers who roped me in with their sweet little songs of peace and happiness.
My sons and husband looked at me like I was crazy when I brought them home, and I'm not so sure they aren't right, because I still don't understand how I let them talk me into raising all these babies, the chickens, not my family. I had to go out and buy a metal coop to house all these little tweeters, and my oldest son put it together for me while I supervised. The tarp will be going over it tomorrow and I will turn it into the chicken house that they are demanding, because they aren't done torturing me yet. Yes, I buy them their chick nick table, for the treats they'll need. Sure I'll add those roosting bars and nesting boxes, and okay I may have already laid out plans for a garden box, and sweet potato vines. Who knows what they'll ask for next!
Did I mention I have a full time job? Thankfully, my husband is retired, and we've got forty acres of land, because something tells me the chicken math conspiracy will continue. I have a rooster, who will probably get exhausted with all those ladies and might have to add another just to make sure I don't have him overworked. This is how those little adorable chicks pull you into their cult. They might be cute, but watch out, once you give in, the conspiracy will never end!
