Who knew that postal workers worked on Sundays? (Boy, do they need a labor union.) And who knew that chicks came in the mail? Ok, I did. But did you?
Baby chicks come in the mail on Sundays.
Let's try not to focus on how ridiculous that sounds.
Instead, let's focus on how absolutely adorable and irresistible these chicks are....which is exactly what my kids did for about 5 straight hours.
Here they are, still in the box. They come in these neat little compartmentalized boxes, 25 chicks per compartment. In fact, you have to mail-order a minimum of 25 chicks, otherwise they won't have enough body heat to keep themselves warm. A cold chickie is a doomed chickie.
Yes, you are seeing two boxes there. 150 chicks in all. That's a lot of little peepers.
We take them out of the box one by one, and dip their beaks in their water. It's a welcome drink for most, except for those squirmy ones that get water up their teensy little nostrils, poor guys.
At the hatchery, the chicks are born, vaccinated (ouch), and immediately boxed up. No food. No water. So these birdies are thirsty. And hungry. And scared out of their pea-sized minds. Good thing I've got some willing kids to make them feel right at home.
And Armando is Mr. Popular. Look how many he has crowded around him.
It takes awhile to get the heat lamps situated just right. If the lamps are hung too high up, the chicks get cold and start to mob together like this:
I'd better lower that light a bit.
Ahh, that's better. Now that they're warm, they start to zip around from here to there. It's hilarious, especially because they aren't very coordinated yet and tend to bump into things.
Gosh, these peeps are irresistible. Baby chicks have to be the most adorable creatures on the face of the earth. So cute, in fact, that I've gotta run and check on them, just in case. For the fourth time today.
What? I can't help it.