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My parents chickens are doing really well. They are growing up fast, and when Mama and Daddy look into their baby chick pen when they return from their trip to Cozumel, they're going to think we replaced them with real chickens. Don't get me wrong, they totally miss my parents. My siblings and I are doing are darnedest to keep them cleaned and watered and feed, but I know they miss my Mama's sweetness and heartfelt songs of praise.
When I go into their pen they run away from me. Not so with Mama. They swarm around her, knowing their mother hen is there to take care of them. I can just look at their little bead eyes and hear them thinking,
"Jesus lady, what's your problem? You throw hay at us. You don't place the watermelon down like Mom does, you throw it to us like we're some kind of animals. Where's our fresh fruit salad? Our veggie tray? What did you do with our real parents?"
Well, chickens, they're coming home soon, and I'm sorry, but I'm doing my best, I swear.
Everything else is going swell. I'm about to go to town to help Lily move today, since I am the only one legally allowed to drive Dad's big-kid cars. But I don't mind. I love being with my big sister. It's oddly comforting, even though it was only five years ago that we would get into real, physical fights over things like me wanting to read her Seventeen magazine. Oh how things change.
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