How are you? Good thanks.
Well... Actually, a few weeks ago... no wait. Last week, in the school holidays, I cheerfully packed the children up for a few days at Nanna’s.
Nanna lives near the beach, makes homemade milkshakes on demand and has a newer, and therefore, far superior house to us. The children immensely enjoy their few days at Nana’s and I, also immensely enjoy them going to Nanna’s for a few days.
With some spending money in hand, I kissed all of their little heads, installed booster seats and alike, popped their overnight bags in nanna’s boot and stood on the kerb waiting to wave them off down the street when the Teen popped open the car door and asked if he could spend his money on anything he liked?
“Yes, yes dear” I replied, patting him on the head” Anything you like, love you... now shut the door, hurry up” *Waves before busting into air fist pumping dance as soon as they were out of sight.
I saw the curtains twitch at the neighbour’s house across the road, you know the ones... The neighbours that won’t make eye contact with me since the ‘Incident’ when I yelled at Robbo in the middle of the street with no shoes on.
Dear mother of Adam Levine... I still turn ashen at the shameful memory of it, and by the way... Those neighbours have STILL not replied to the card I put in their letter box EXPLAINING about it. I mean, I don’t know them very well at all seeing as they won’t make eye contact with me and all, but rude.
So I cared not for what they thought about me busting a delighted move in the middle of the street after I waved my children off. In fact, if I could have managed it, I would have given off a little fart in their general direction as I did so, but I am not a public farter. My ass cheeks clench tightly at the thought of it. Anyway, that’s not important… What’s important is, I really should have given my answer to the Teens question a little more thought, because anything you like, clearly included live animals.
Shoulda but didntus... and now we have these two.
Two little baby chickens, who are not so much babies as teenagers…
Like a lot of teenagers, they look like awkward miniature adults, with bad hair and a distinctive odour and when they open their mouths, tiny little high pitched squeaks come out which reminds you that they are still babies.
We already have three chickens, my beloved Mrs Nuggets;
The Asshole chicken, formerly known as Mrs Trump due to her delightful comb over, but who now has a new name due to her being a massive asshole;
SO we already have the required paraphernalia to adequately care for chickens, but the introduction of the two new fresh faced teens did not go smoothly.
Asshole, chased them into a corner and savagely pecked them on the top of the head while they squeaked and flapped their little greasy wings, and Mrs Nuggets and Legs looked on approvingly, ready to step in the minute Asshole was done.
Seems they don’t call it the pecking order for nothing.
So now, the two teens are in an old large guinea pig cage in the teen’s room, which I personally didn’t think could smell any worse than it already did, but boy was I wrong and they have to remain there until they are big enough to fend for themselves.
For fucks sake.
I tell you, doing that Ambi –Pur Ad was the best thing I have ever done, because at the moment it’s the only thing preventing my whole house from smelling like a barn, but it can only do so much. It is not a miracle worker.
At first I spray and it smells like fresh linen spring, but after a while, the freshness goes and it smells like linen spring, then before long, it just smells like spring and if I go out for any length, when I walk back in it just smells like someone took a crap in a flower bed.
How long does it take for chickens to become fully grown? Or more importantly, does anyone know how to negotiate this pecking order thing? Is there a trick to assimilating them that you know?
Anyway. I am off to cheer at the Primary cross country.
*Go Yellow! *Shakes yellow pom pom unenthusiastically.
Happy Friday. xx