Do you remember the other day when I was weighing the pros and cons of getting chicks? Do you remember my raw honesty? Then my responsible, "adult" conclusion?
So this morning, with a humorous wink I say to Geoff, "So then, I guess I will just go out to the feed store and get some chicks then..." and this is where I paused and waited for him to laugh, or interject, or look nervous, but no. No he is completely casual, and says, "I've been wondering when you were going to do that."
Seriously. I did not see that coming.
"Do you read Chcikenblog?" I ask him, not even pausing to correct my spelling, because I was speaking to him, not writing.
And he says, "Yeah. What was that all about? I figured you would have got the chicks by now. Too bad Betty isn't broody."
By now I am standing up and looking him in the eye, because really. I. did. not. see. this. coming. And I ask him, "Seriously?"
And he's serious.
He's totally serious.
So, for some absurd reason, I have to pause and try to muster rational "adult"
thoughts, and those are hard to come by twice in the same week. Naturally, none came and I was on the phone with the feed store thirty seconds later.
New chicks are arriving at my favorite feed store in a couple of weeks, so even though I could track some down at some other feed store, I am going to be an "adult", wait, and prepare. And in thirty days, when everyone here at the Bird House is asking "What the haybale were you thinking?" I will have the very immature and comforting knowledge that I was not alone in my rash and reckless decision.