Let me introduce Blackie, Goldie, and Junior. Our dear friend Brandy Treguboff was doing photo shoots for our girls camp fundraiser with baby chicks for easter. Every child was smitten but most especially Ava who I affectionatly call 'Fern' because she belongs on a farm. I buckled under pressure and ordered 3 baby chicks and Brandy agreed to take them in a few weeks to her parent's farm when they got too big.
My choice for the title is hyperbole in its most extreme form. Actually, okay, when it comes to being adored and loved, yes they are lucky. But the constant mishandling is nothing short of a complete shame. Regan loves to be a little mother hen but somehow holds them by the neck. We've taught her how to hold them from the feet but she still will revert back to her original grip every once in a while. Yesterday, Harrison screamed upstairs, "Mom this is really serious, Ava threw Blackie over the fence!" Okay, our fence is like 9 feet tall. I yelled...'Why on earth would you throw Blackie?" She said, "I'm teaching him how to fly!" I let her know under no uncertain terms that the poor thing was probably taught how to die not fly. But darned if the little thing wasn't pecking for bugs joyfully on the other side of the fence! Heaven help us all....especially Blackie!
