Our entire family decided to make a stop at a local farm store, well... my husband decided and I simply moaned! For he had no clue what it was like to shop with three kids... not to mention with "our" three kids, and at this particular agriculture store with toy tractors, bulk feeds, live animals... and cat-nip in the air!
Smashing through the doors, one child immediately ripped every toy off the first shelf and another was running across the stacked bags of water softener salts and sands. My husband's eyes instantly bugged and he yelled, "Whoa guys..." and then I didn't see him again, until he wanted me to pay for his arms full.
The shopping cart hadn't slammed me to the ground for almost an entire aisle, and I was no longer tripping on yanked things from the shelves, and their packaging. But, faster than I could ask my oldest, "Where's your brother...?" A red vested employee was approaching with a half grin and that look in his eye... "Ma'am?" ...as I'm now hiding, tucked into a man's coat. ..."Ma'am?"
Oh, shit I thought, only when they're about to tell you someone has died or your children are in the principle's office again, do they call you Ma'am... I wait for it, as he continues, "Does the small child that has climbed over the livestock gates, on top of the bales of shavings, and into the baby chick display belong with you?" "Naw! Haven't seen that one before..."
Well there's no denying when you look over and he's as proud as a clown in the carnival parade, smiling and waving, "Hey Mom! MOMMY, see chickens!" Instead, I beg the guy to just let me hurry up and finish my shopping while he was contained and my sanity had returned. "Please don't release him," as I tried to bribe the man with two kid's tower tokens from the Dentist and a half cookie from the bottom of my purse.
The heating lamps were swinging back and forth, feathers flying, and with a baby duckling clutched around the neck, he was "Bawk, bawk, bawkkkking" right along with them.
The heating lamps were swinging back and forth, feathers flying, and with a baby duckling clutched around the neck, he was "Bawk, bawk, bawkkkking" right along with them.
It was time to go when he attempted some relocating...as the child just can't understand why chicks are living crammed into water troths, when such beautiful chicken coop barns sit on display at the end of the aisle. "Put 'em in barn," he kept insisting, and the man also kept insisting "You need to get him out of there!" So, now hanging through the gates, my bust (or possibly muffin-top) not fitting through, and my face is smashed against, and I'm swatting at the air, begging to make contact with the laughing little bird. My other two children laugh hysterically, as I look like a short lady trying to reach the last peach yogurt from the back of a top shelf in the super market.
My two-year old, unlike the store employee, was interested in the lint covered, purse cookie bribe, which followed up with a "I think Papa's here!" lie ... worked every time!
He then, tries to climb over the wall with one hand pulling him up the gate, and the other dangling a frail, or maybe dead by now, chick. He drops the feather-less little chick when I ask, and says "bye, birdy!"
Perhaps, next year's chick season the fragile little birds should be behind glass display case, armed guard, or the electric fencers could be incorporated into the hatch zone exhibit... or more naturally just let them live in the cute little over-priced barn coops as Bostyn's wishes!
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