Maybe it's like childbirth. How we conveniently forget the pain, the contractions. And somehow we find ourselves happily going through it all over again.
That must be what was happening when I decided to do the "chicks in the bathroom" thing again.
The chickens have launched a complete take over of the downstairs bathroom. The large green plastic tub that was formerly their home just wasn't cutting it and appparently unlike their mild-mannered predecessors, it wasn't enough space.
Every time I, heaven forbid, had to use the downstairs bathroom for its intended purpose, I had to first remove a roosting chick or two from the seat of the toilet. (a down toilet seat, of course.) Within seconds of plopping them back in their home there would be another, jumping at my thigh or flapping up to the edge of the box.
That's when it occured to me that we could give them the whole back corner of the bathroom. Which means, I guess that I'm the one responsible for the take over. And perhaps this also means that maybe it is a good thing that this little bathroom never saw a minute of remodeling work.
So I called Dan at work and asked if he could finagle some sort of barrier, he said it wouldn't be hard and by nightfall they had the run of the place.
Yesterday afternoon, Emma had a friend over and the mom stopped in to see the chicks. She's curious about the whole process and thinking of trying her hand with chickens.
She leaned over the large plywood barrier, looking at the chickens running willy-nilly on my bathroom floor which is now covered with both a tarp and layer of shavings…"Now, what is the advantage to getting chicks instead of older hens that are ready to go out in the coop?"
Huh. Good question.
It's fun? They were cute for three days before they started to get their pin feathers? They'll be tamer when we put them outside? I like the way they make my whole downstairs smell like a chicken coop? It gives my children something to do while they're on the potty? Life was getting boring and I needed a little something to fill all my free time?
Well, really. It's not that bad. At least not all the time.
There is enjoyment in the process. Like it or not, we are becoming attached to these six feathered characters taking up residence in our bathroom.
And some day these girls will begin to give back. We just have to keep our eyes on the egg.