Cheep-cheep, Where Will We Live?

Even though we started building the chicken coop before acquiring hatching eggs, it was not ready by the time the chicks hatched.

It was not finished when they were one week old.

It was not finished when they were two weeks old.

I had thought putting the chicks in Oscar’s bathroom would motivate him to finish the coop. Nope. It required my setting a drop-dead deadline and telling Oscar that if the chicks weren’t going to sleep in the coop HE would be sleeping there.

I meant it, too!

The chicks were only supposed to be in the bathtub-brooder for a few days but they were not moved into the coop until they were more than three weeks old. It took nearly five weeks to get done what should have been a weekend project. Even then, the coop was not quite finished but it was far enough along that they would be secure. So, out they went.

Don’t for a minute imagine my ultimatum was a mean, or unnecessary, thing to do. You have to remember, the whippersnapper was home all day, everyday, that entire time. I was housing him, I was feeding him. He was costing me money; he needed to earn his keep. He was capable of doing it, he had the tools, he had the supplies, he was given daily assignments. Unfortunately, if I wasn’t standing over him, he wasn’t doing anything. Perhaps there will be a future post about our experiences this summer with Adulting 201. Maybe I’ll leave out the episodes of Raging Granny though.


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