For those of you who don't know, my husband and I live on six acres and we own two cows, nine chickens and a dog named Bandit, who is temporary--she will be going with my youngest son when he moves out in a couple of weeks. Anyway, here is a story of what happened to me yesterday in my attempt at being helpful.
When I got home from work yesterday, Don wasn’t home yet. Knowing that he's had some tough days at work, I thought I would be helpful by watering the cows and gathering the eggs from the chicken coop. I turned on the water to start watering the cows and decided to multi-task and go gather the eggs while the watering hole was filling up. I headed over to the chicken coop, opened the door and went in. That in itself was a task because the chickens wanted out and the dog wanted in! Anyway, I managed. Bandit sat down next to the gate and waited. I stepped over and around all the chicken poop and whatever else may have been on the ground, opened the door to the coop and stepped up inside. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there were nine eggs! We’ve only been getting about four of five a day lately. Well, I started picking up the eggs and realized I forgot to bring anything to carry them in so I lifted the tail of my shirt and started putting them in there. Now, mind you, I still had my dress clothes on from work--something I would regret in a few short minutes. One of the eggs looked “funny” and when I touched it, it wasn’t “done”…one end of the shell was hard and the other end was like touching some old lady’s flabby underarm skin. Needless to say, I left that egg for Don to take care of. I finished gathering the remaining eight eggs, gently laying them in my shirt tail. I was bragging to the chickens how proud I was of them for laying so many eggs after their drought. I went to step down on one of the four cement blocks we have for a step outside the coop. Wouldn’t you know it, the very one I stepped on decided to flip up as I put my weight on it. From then on, everything seemed to be in slow motion. I felt myself falling, and tried my darndest to grab the door of the chicken coop to save myself, knowing that if I fell, those eggs were all goners! Well, the door seemed to know what was going on and decided to jump back about two inches out of my reach. I teetered on the step for what seemed like several minutes, when in actuality I know it was two seconds or less. Next thing I knew, I was on my side. My feet were under the chicken coop, my torso was laying over the cement brick and my arms and head were on the ground. Luckily my face did NOT land in a pile of chicken poop! Once I got my wits about me, I realized that two of the eggs had fallen out of my shirt tail. I was unable to shoo the chickens away quick enough—who knew chickens were cannibals??? I managed to get up, counted the eggs in my shirt tail—there were six left so I wasn’t too disappointed with my acrobatics at my age. When I looked toward the gate, there sat Bandit, still waiting for me. I think she was disappointed that I didn’t have chicken poop on my face!! She walked back up to the house with me and I turned off the water that had been running for the cows and went inside and put the "safe" eggs in the fridge. Then I immediately went to the bathroom, stripped out of my who-knows-what-was-on-them clothes and put my pj’s on—I knew I had hit my limit for the day!!
Now that you have (hopefully) had a good laugh, I hope you have a great day!! Please feel free to share this with anyone you know who might need to smile today! God bless!!