Just a quick note about another day at the Foster farm… So maybe I over did it a little, I spent (relative) big bucks on a bunch of baby chicks that we don’t need, so that we can have even more eggs that we can’t eat. Too bad there isn’t a small horde of protein starved orphans living in a van “down by Gar creek.” The problem is, I just can’t resist the nearly continuous, almost agony-filled “aaaaaaaaaaaahh!” from my girls that is so nearly continuous, it sounds like a neo-fugue or a demented song round, intermixed with “They are SOOOO cute!!!” So I slammed together a tiny little brooder house, in my tiny little shed, for my tiny little chickens with my tiny little chicks and my big boy watching. Yup, all of us, including the big dumb dog working on it. They were all quite impressed.
So that was fun and all went well as we went inside and stressed the importance of washing up after handling poultry only to be shocked to see how many bubbles come from 3 really jazzed up kids out of one bathroom with a pump-style liquid soap dispenser. A question to you more experienced parents; at what point does it all become less shocking? Because, well, I’m tired of feeling like I have to manually lower my eyebrows occasionally in order to prevent rumors circulating around the Haven-Yoder area about me getting a facelift that pulled a little too tight.
Well, what’s a little soap anyway; it cleans up nicely… you don’t even need to use any cleaners. Unfortunately, the same could NOT be said about the next event, which involves Isiaih cupping toilet water with his hands and drinking his fill—Yup, that’s right, straight out of the toilet. That’s my boy. Anyway goodnight all, I think I am going to wash my mouth out with soap just thinking about it.
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