So about 2 months ago, I got the inevitable question: “Mom, can we keep it? Please?” The “IT” in question was a baby chick that had just hatched as part of Taylor’s science class project. I knew she was going to ask-how can she resist, the animal lover that she is? I had steeled myself and prepared for the question, ready to utter the word NO swiftly and with conviction that tells the kid “I REALLY mean NO.” And yet what ended up coming out led me to actually cave in and say YES. As the word was coming out, I questioned my decision. And my sole reasoning was this: I do and will have to say NO to so many other things, what will it hurt to say YES to this innocent baby chick? Incidentally, the chick has a name: Honey. When it receives a name, I know I’m in trouble.
Suddenly I am thrust into a world I know nothing about: chicken ownership! A quick trip to Petsmart to buy a cage and we are at home assembling this fluffball’s new home. Taylor is exuberant, elated. She doesn’t see what I see-the future with livestock. In my house. Ugh!
Fast forward a few weeks and Honey is growing and hitting her awkward teen phase: dark brown feathers begin pushing their way through the yellow fuzz. She is gangly and gawky. Her cage has to be cleaned…ALOT! I can’t wait to get this bird outside my house. And then it happens…the lobbying to keep the chicken begins. Internet searches for chicken coops. Strategizing with her best friend about how to convince her parents that we should be chicken owners. Begging & pleading.
Needless to say, none of that worked (I’ll give her an A for effort)! We took Honey this week to live with Taylor’s riding instructor. Honey has a good home out in the country. And NOT in our house. Taylor will be able to see her every week when she rides. Win-win, right? Taylor concedes this round, realizing that we will not be keeping Honey. Her new angle? We can help raise the new chicks that Honey will need for company. Heaven help me.