That's right, those are baby chicks, and they will soon grow into egg laying hens (don't tell Goldie that though, she gets super mad if anyone ever suggests that she, any of her siblings, or even baby chicks might ever grow up . . . in fact she cried for almost an hour the other day because she saw some video footage from when she was one and it broke her heart that she could never be one again).
Anyway, I must clear my husband of any wrong doing here by admitting that I have actually missed our chickening days. I remember sitting out in our old spacious yard with my sister and our kids while two old hens strutted boldly around us trying to get at any food we had. Megan gave them names and always insisted they were listening for gossip to take back to the coop, and I remember how oddly watched I felt when one would fly up to our front yard and stare in the front window at us. I don't know, I guess I've grown fond of the birds. I remember Mike once trying to find something online that would tell him what to do about our rooster crowing so loudly in the mornings. He found little and was surprised as he figured that all the urban dwelling chicken owners would have figured something out. I laughed at the idea that any urban dwellers would own chickens . . . and now, here we are. I think it will be fun to give city chickens a try.