We spent some time in the garage last night, bonding with the chicks. For me, "bonding with the chicks" = letting the walk all over me, followed by me laundering my clothes. Usually I have the sense to drape myself in an old towel, but that slipped my mind last night.
Little bundles of yellow fluff! And yes, the garage is a sty. For some reason, it seems to descend into chaos every summer (probably because if we let it descend into chaos in winter, we'd have to park our cars outside and scrape snow off them on a regular basis!) The boxes are from a new patio set, and on the other side of the garage, we've been assembling beehives and frames.
These three seemed quite content to perch on my arm.
Gordon cuddled another little cutie.
I threw a cushion on the floor and stretched out. We both thought it was funny that the chicks didn't want to jump off and run away. Maybe they think I'm the big mother hen!
Cute little bums, but they generate a lot of poop!
And video of the event. I threw my clothes in the washing machine right afterwards.
I figure 70% of the population will think I'm nuts for letting chicks crawl all over me, and the other 30% will totally get it. :) Or maybe it's more like 99 - 1! :)