On the recommendation of a neighbor, the kiddos and I went searching for baby chicks at the farm supply store up on Plainfield this week. My neighbor had taken her nephews there in the past, but she wasn’t sure exactly when the fuzzy babies arrive at the store, so I gave the kids proper warning that we might not get to see them. There wasn’t a prominent display located in the front as I’d expected. Not wanting to have wasted the trip, I convinced the kids to walk around with me looking for garden supplies.
We were just halfway down the main aisle when I heard lots of little peeping. The kids stopped and listened and then followed the sound to about ten big containers full of these little guys!
Okay, not exactly these little guys, but little guys just like ’em in the same kind of container with the same kind of trough.
Farm girl I am not, and when Ede tried to grab a baby duck’s neck, I realized I’m not raising farm kids either. The chickies elicited that look of wonder and new discovery on J&E’s faces which makes all the “don’t run in parking lot!” hassle of leaving the house totally worth it.