One time I had a little bantam hen who was confined to a wire cage while she incubated a clutch of eggs. The day after her chicks hatched I let her out into a secure grass-floored pen. I took a hand spade and dug up a little patch of grass so she could have access to some dirt. The hen almost immediately scurried over to the dirt hole and settled herself in for a long-overdue dust bath. Her chicks clustered around the edge of the hole, and I could imagine their conversations:
"Hey Mom, whatcha doin?"
"I'm taking a dust bath, dear."
"A dust bath? What's a dust bath? Can I have a dust bath too? Can I? Can I? Pleeeeeeeeese?"
"Oh no dear, let Mommy finish first, it's been so long since I had a dust bath and I really need -- oof! Well, now you've jumped in here, just give me some room--"
"Hey guys, look! Mom's taking a dust bath and said I could come in too! Come on, there's room for all of us!"
And all of the chicks pile into the dirt hole, crowding out the hen until she's standing forlornly on the edge, looking down with an expressive glance that says:
"I have GOT to get a lock for that bathroom door!"