Chicks in a Box

There’s no turning back. The chicks have arrived by mail. Hannah, a fellow chickeneer and most helpful godmother to the B’s, lends the basics to set up the B’s brooder box. It doesn’t take long for Darnell ‘the wife’ to stop ignoring the fluff balls. That said, she still has plenty of interesting comments for me. Babies, puppies, and even chicks seem to know that the quickest way to ensure survival is to charm the pants off the large creatures around them. Lil' B cracked the thin layer of ice surrounding my wife by immediately falling asleep when placed in her hands. Even Darnell couldn't be peeved while trying to work with a chick crashed out on her laptop (at least that's how I saw it).
Chicks grow quickly. As B Diddy made her first successful attempt at flying out of the brooder box my wife shot me ‘that look’ and just shook her head. Two weeks into the B’s coming to live with us, I asked Darnell what she thought the B’s would look like in the following week. Darnell’s father is a poultry broker so it seemed a logical question. She looked at me, laughed and said she didn’t have a clue. She explained that on the occasion a baby chick had been brought home when she was young, the cat had gotten to it before it ever reached this age. I then asked what she and her sister’s had named their baby chick. "Why KFC, of course." I’m thinking that may have had something to do with the early demise of the Samuelson girls’ baby chicken.