It’s been twenty weeks since I was called to the post office to pick up a chirping shoe box. The excitement for the kiddos over the fuzzy day-old chicks is long gone at this point, but thankfully not their interest in raising the chickens (though it has waned a time or two – cold weather and the holidays will do that).

Potato Boy with a 4 day old chick

We survived the “ugly duckling” phase where they looked like some type of early bird from a dinosaur movie and wanted nothing to do with any of the kiddos.

The chicks at 5 weeks

And now at 20 weeks we have loud cackling hens.

The hens at 20 weeks

So what happens after twenty weeks?

Yup… the chickens start paying rent.

Well, let’s be honest. One small egg is a long way from paying rent… but it’s a start. As the hens continue to mature, the eggs will get larger and production will be more consistent. The five hens should produce two dozen eggs a week.

Of course the kiddos were excited. My nephew “B” was over playing with Lulu when the DW found the egg. She missed Lulu’s initial reaction, but this shot still gives you a pretty good idea – and the ending is pretty good, too.

And just in case you’re curious… I asked the kiddos over supper what the plan was for the first egg. Instead of a chorus of “I want to eat it,” or “we can’t eat it,” I got the plan – the kiddos agreed to hold on to the egg for a couple more days in hope of getting a couple more and having eggs for breakfast Sunday morning. Sounds good to me.