I swear. Here’s what happened.
I went down to the chicken coop at 6:15 this morning to videotape the automatic chicken door opening at 6:19. I know what you’re thinking, but I DO have a life. Anyway, I stayed down there for about an hour feeding the chickens and playing with the goats. During that time, 3 eggs were laid. I went to collect the eggs from the nesting boxes with all three goats in tow, a pocketful of Honey Buzzers cereal, and a container of peanuts in my hand. In hindsight, a bad idea.
Our chicken coop has four nesting boxes. Everyone fights over the box that is second from the left. I have no idea why. They all have a good view!
So, this morning Martha is in the second box to the left when Oprah decides she needs to lay an egg and must use the same box. Oprah tries to bully Martha out of the box. I try to break it up.
They squawk and peck at each other but Martha refuses to give up the best seat in the house.
Oprah is, well, mad as a wet hen. Martha stands her ground. She is not giving up the coveted second box from the left!
Oprah eventually gives up and gets into the first box, still squawking and carrying on.
Confident that the altercation is over, I move around to the back of the chicken coop with my goats, cereal and peanuts. (still blissfully unaware of what a bad idea that was)
Notice the construction of the nesting boxes.
They have hinged plexiglas doors that lift up for egg gathering.
So, here we are, Martha is settled into box #2 and Oprah is twisting around to get comfy in box #1. I pull the clasps open on both doors and lift them up, and grab three eggs. Simultaneously, the goats decide to attack me en masse for the treats. Banning jumps me and rams his head in my pocket for the cereal, while Aidan and Donovan knock me out at the knees for the peanuts. I am hunched over trying to fight off the vicious goats when I feel a thud on my back and something warm and sticky run down my arm and drip off my elbow. It’s an egg! Oprah has laid an egg on me. She stuck her fluffy butt out the open door and dropped an egg on my back.
And, I have the shirt to prove it!
But here’s the miracle. There’s always one. The automatic chicken door that closes at night and opens in the morning, allowing me to stay in my PJs, drinking coffee, eating toast, and reading blogs!
Disclaimer: No chickens were harmed in the making of this movie. Aunt Bee had a limp when we got her.