We've been turned down as chicken foster parents.
This will surprise you, but we have some friends who have chickens. And they were thinking about getting two more chickens - chickens which lay greenish eggs, oddly enough. But my friend is having a baby (a real live human baby, not a chicken) around the time one needs to take proper identification ($5) to the feed store and claim one's chicks. They thought this might be a bit much, having a box of chickens in their living room at a time when sleep deprivation makes things like not going to work in your bathrobe next to impossible. So I offered foster care. Until their chicks could move into the coop with the older siblings. Or get a job.
And if we had their baby chicks in our livingroom, then what would be the harm in getting a couple baby chicks of our own?
You see where this is going, yes?
Except then my friend decided that since she will be talking to herself in a sing-song voice while at work in her bathrobe anyway, she may as well just do it all and pick up her own baby chicks in the spring. To which I replied "but... but....?"
Fortunately Chris has not been paying such close attention and has instead just been nodding and saying "okay, yeah sure," which is geek-speak for "not now woman, I'm reading Fark!"
I am totally getting one of these:
behold the bearded white silkie.