My mom is going to kill me for writing this. When I was in college my mom, sister, and I went to St. George for Spring Break... trying to "be cool" we went walking down the strip. I can't remember all the details but there was a fair of some sort going on and a farmer was selling chicks for $5.00. I thought, what a deal- my roommates will love this (I'm not sure why I thought this). So I bought this chick and took it back to our hotel in a box. Here is one thing about chicks... they chirp a lot! They probably chirp more when they are traumatized and I'm sure mine was. Anyhow, my mom said she wasn't going to be able to sleep with all the chirping and we were driving back to SLC the next day. So my cute new chick got banned to the car for the night.... poor thing. The next morning we were loading the car and my mom came up and said she had some bad news. My chick died, I'm thinking from suffocation in the St. George heat. And the worse news... my mom threw it away in the dumpster. My poor chick didn't even get a proper burial. So the standing joke is that my mom is a chick killer and I have not let her forget it.
On with the rest of the story... we had a little situation at the house. Lots and lots of poop was appearing on the ground one day so I finally looked up... and found this nest.
It was a bit inconvenient to clean up this poop so I found this stick and told Cameron to go take care of his manly outside duties.
Down came the nest... and the stored up poop (wow, birds poop a lot).
Down came the nest... and the stored up poop (wow, birds poop a lot). 
And down came 2 soon to be chicks. Just for the record, we didn't know there would be eggs.
Mom, you should be happy... you aren't the only chick killer now.
11 comments:
laughing at work is a lot like laughing in church... this is a hilarious post, and I loved reading it. I'm so glad to have you as a friend. I will always have "At least I'm not a chick killer!" in my back pocket...
That is so funny!
In our old house we use to have a nest and every year a bird would come and lay her eggs. One year they hatched and Dallin wanted to hold the new birds. He climbed up and grabbed one and put it back. Needless to say the momma bird never came back and they died! Ever since then we have called him a bird murderer! Do you think he will have some serious issues from that????? :)
I don't know Linda, we should ask my mom!!
SHAN, THIS IS SO GREAT. YOUR DAD AND I WERE TALKING THE OTHER DAY AND HE SAID THAT YOU CALLED HIM WHILE CAM WAS WORKING ON THE "NEST PROBLEM"... HE SAID YOU STARTED FREAKING OUT TELLING CAM NOT TO DO IT YET SO YOU COULD GET A PICTURE. THE BEST PART OF THE STORY IS THAT ME AND YOUR DAD BET THAT THE NEST WOULD MAKE THE BLOG. WE WERE RIGHT!
OH AND BY THE WAY... THIS IS A GREAT STORY! LOVE IT. WHEN DO WE GET TO SEE PICS OF EM'S VISIT?
Hi Shan, its Camille! I hope you don't think its creapy that I blog-surfed into you, but I Just wanted to say hello! Your blog is super cute and funny! Sounds like everything is going great for you guys!
Hilarious! I'm hoping the visit will be your next post. I can't figure out picasso so that's why I haven't posted the pictures yet. I'll try to send them soon.
poor, poor baby chicks....it wasn't their fault that the "cam and shan" murderers moved in! wink, wink!
Soooo glad you've moved so my Emily wouldn't be taught by chick killers in primary!
I'm with Brooke - I'm sitting here just busting up and my kids come over to see what is so funny. They look at me weird when they see the pictures of the busted eggs - they must think I'm wacked!
I'm dying right now! Probably the funniest story I've had in a very long time! Of course the storyteller helps alot too ;) Had to make your mark in the new neighborhood, show those birds whose in charge now...there is a new rooster in town :)
You're a double murderer! I guess you had to one up your mom!
that is hilarious! I like the part about Cam's "outside manly duties"....you are too funny! I love experiences like that which make life fun and interesting!
lol. i LOVE the before and after sidewalk pics!
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