Yeah, you get those cuter than cute fuzz balls that cheep, cheep, cheep their way into your heart.
You tenderly care for them, then they hit that half feathered ugly adolescent stage, but no matter, they are still beautiful in your eyes. Finally they are fully feathered, big beautiful birds.........and........no........eggs.
Each day you run to the coop to look in the nestbox, and each day you are sadly disappointed. Depression sets in.... sigh......the sun is shining, the sky is blue, but there's no eggs in the coop for you. You hear a loud BA-GAWK! This must be the "egg song" fellow BYCer's talk about.......excitement returns.......you run to the coop....... and again--nothing. Feverish thoughts enter your mind........you KNOW there's eggs in there! Maybe........if you start squeezing her just below her head, placing one hand after another, squeezing allllllllllllllllll the way down to her bottom...........an egg just HAS to pop out!! Your DH stops your moment of madness by pointing out that is called strangling a chicken. Your head droops, you toe the dirt, yeah, you know........but you want an egg so BAD that you are considering squatting next to the hens to show them how to do it. It's called BOK-BOKING with the girls. You drink coffee, they drink water laced with ACV. It's quite the hen party........
Just when you finally are convinced you got chickens with barren oviducts, you go to the coop comptemplating chicken n' dumplings and stop------dead------in------your-------tracks. It takes you a moment to collect your frazzled thoughts..........could it be? Is is? YES!! It really is an egg!!!!! You cradle it lovingly in your hand........but why is it so danged little????
All this time, all this feed, the $$$$$ spent on the Hen Hotel, and you get a tiny copy of an egg. OK, Who put this here? You can take a joke, but you are not laughing. You want a REAL egg, not this chicken fart in a shell!!!! You storm back to the house, mad, and don't even mention the chicken fart egg to DH, because HE probably PUT it there. You glare at him and give him the dreaded silent treatment.
DH, oblivious, enjoys the quiet and says nothing. This really makes you mad. At this moment, it is legal to kill him in all 50 states. You just have to bury him real deep and don't tell anyone. The phone rings........and stops the murder. It is your friend who convinced you to get chickens. Murder and mayhem switches from DH to friend........and she asks you have you got any PULLET EGGS yet. PULLET EGGS???? The light starts to dawn.......ooohhhhhhh.........that's what that is...........why YES!!!
I got one this morning!! You puff with pride and brag about finding the first egg laid by your very own chickens. Yep, you and DH are officially chicken ranchers now, with many more eggs to come. Shhhhhh........... DH still doesn't know how close it was........
Just when you finally are convinced you got chickens with barren oviducts, you go to the coop comptemplating chicken n' dumplings and stop------dead------in------your-------tracks. It takes you a moment to collect your frazzled thoughts..........could it be? Is is? YES!! It really is an egg!!!!! You cradle it lovingly in your hand........but why is it so danged little????
