I love babies. Babies of all kinds can come to my house and I’ll love them and squeeze them and give them nicknames like Weeds or Major. I’ll even love them when they aren’t babies anymore. I know, that’s how bad it is. I love baby animals almost as much. It’s so hard for me to drive to town and not sneak a baby cow over the fence and into the back seat of the car and take it home. Those knobby knees and big ears just beg to come live with me. Can’t you just see it, a little Tommy boy ‘esque only cuter and a little illegal since I’m pretty sure theft is frowned upon. They won’t miss one or two right?
Around Easter the baby chicks come in at the cowboy store. Heaven help me. Is there anything cuter than a grey fuzzy ping pong ball with legs? Say hi to Pidge. She asked to live with me and wanted to bring 14 friends. Our 2 big hens are getting really lonely, I can see it in their eyes.
If I could I would carry her mini self in my purse like a wanna be celebrity circa 2008. Start a mini chicken fad with designer chick carriers, wouldn’t that be cool? I could switch them out whenever I have a wardrobe change and I could totally make my own carrier… hmm.
So as you probably guessed I have a pile of laundry, a pile of Easter sewing, and a pile of a million other things waiting on me. Cute fuzzy procrastination at it’s best my friends.
Hope your projects are coming along better than mine!
Have a great almost Thursday.