Chick Maths

When I wrote the post Socially Distanced Animal Buying At The Farm last month, I totally intended to go and pick up the two rabbits we had reserved and nothing else.

The people had told me that they had an incubator full of eggs but at that point, even though I had a little chuckle to myself, I did not intend to buy any chicks.

As time went on and I thought about it, I said to myself that life is too short and maybe I would take a few chicks home with me.

Maybe three.

I took enough money with me for the rabbits and, erm, five chicks. I felt like I had been sensible and had really thought it through.

How many chocks arrived home with us?

All of the ones he had.

That’s right. He made me an offer to take all 22 chicks and I agreed. Then when he brought them to my car in a box, he had miscounted and there were actually 24.

Oh dear.

When we got home, we ran round looking for the brooder, feeder and drinker before the farmer saw us.

We hid them away and thought we had got away with it all.

The next morning he said the sentence to me that I dread. “Have you got anything to tell me?”

I knew he knew.

I acted all innocent: “No. Like what?”

He said he had gone checking the sheep and heard cheeping.

I tried to pass it off as the guinea pigs but he said he found some chicks. I asked if he had counted them which thankfully he hadn’t.

He wasn’t angry thank goodness.

He might be though when the 50 arrive from the hatchery next month.

This is chick maths. Like chicken maths but smaller and a bit more fluffy.