My husband had a little concern about bringing a dozen adorable chicks home last week. Not because of the smell, or the noise, or the hassle of raising a brood of chickens. His hesitation was centered on a joke we often shared at the thought of moving to the country and raising hens. He would say, "I don't know about bringing home little baby chicks....I can just see you two (me and our daughter) carrying them around in your apron pockets. Or dressing them up and taking pictures. You might stop spending time with humans all together and just make a little nest for yourself out in the coop."
His insinuations would lead to an amusing conversation about the beloved group of poultry fans, we like to call, "chicken people." You know, like "ferret people", "nascar people", "starbucks people", or "Mini Cooper people." Each group with their own unique zeal. Each group so loyal to their craft. Each group so obvious to the rest of us.
I would eventually say, "No...if we get chickens, we won't be "chicken people." We will stick them out in the coop, and act totally normal." We would all laugh and carry on dreaming of our country adventures.
Well, now we are living those adventures here on Rehoboth Farm. There can be no more speculation. We have had these fluffy babies for a whole week. And really....I don't think my husband really had anything to worry about. Do you?
See...Totally normal! *wink wink*
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