Sorry, Mom, I Love Chicks!

Sorry, Mom, I love chicks! I know this isn't the news you want to hear and it may be difficult for you to understand, but I must follow my heart.

I know now that I've confessed that the wheels are turning in your mind. Deep down, you always knew. The signs have always been there. From my insistence on cutting my hair short and keeping it that way to my steadiness and loyalty to the hayfield and farm work I willingly endured.

I know you were worried about it.

You tried to tell me I was a girl. You tried to persuade Dad not to let me help or to at least give me different roles in assisting him on the farm. Maybe driving wouldn't make my arm and calf muscles swell up so large; surely, that role was more feminine. You tried to tell me my body was meant for different things, but I wouldn't listen.

In high school, you gave in to my affections only once. You thought it was a phase, and that I would be over it. At the very least, you hoped by indulging my fantasy that would be the case. After a week or so with one noisy chick, I too thought I'd had enough! I dropped the subject, and truly had no intention of pursuing it further. That's what I thought anyway. Now I realize we were both wrong.

Maybe I should have experimented more in college, but I just didn't have time between work and classes. Instead, I thought I'd use it as a time to forget that part of me; focus my ventures elsewhere where they were preferred. I thought I'd get my life together and grab that big job opportunity that would make you proud by working so hard during my education.

Admittedly, I got sidetracked a few times with friendships, relationships, and poor sleeping habits. The relationship part was always a focus of yours. You proudly wanted to be my advisor in that department. You always pushed me to date specific boys hoping you could change things; hoping you could give me a chance at a normal life. Your picks were usually well off financially, and more masculine than the types I preferred. Your intentions were decent, I suppose, but I never was good at listening to them. I had a clear preference for others, and that was made crystal clear.

I just wasn't attracted to your selections. I couldn't be, and now it all makes sense.

You sighed a bit of relief when you found out I was in a serious relationship, albeit you didn't care for my selection of partner. Still, you overlooked it. You were looking forward to having grandchildren, and after several years later you finally achieved your goal. I had that "successful" government position that made you proud, I was married to my husband, and we had our first child and your grandson. My life seemed normal, and that gave you a breath of fresh air for a time.

But alas, it just couldn't last. Eventually the truth would come out.

I had been mulling it over for some time. I rebelled against the idea. I told myself that chicks had cooties, that they were disgusting. I tried to perfectly arrange my life and focus my priorities elsewhere, but in the end I still fell to temptation.

It's always the redheads, am I right?

I thought about the first time I saw them in high school. I remember that chapter in my agricultural science book. I remembered the name to this day; Rhode Island Reds. I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help but think of their breasts and succulent poultry thighs. I didn't need an app to tell me that we were a match made in heaven. Who cares about Tinder when you can have Tenders? This got me thinking of their large eggs and all the babies we could have together. I couldn't deny it anymore. I had to talk to my husband.

I hoped my partner would accept this part of me. I knew it was a difficult pill to swallow. How do you make such a confession to someone you've been monogamous with for the past ten years?

Yet, he happily accepted me. Even better, he went with me to select my new love birds to add to our nest! He didn't limit me either! I wasn't sure how many I wanted to bring in to our relationship, but we've agreed on four for now. We picked up four chicks, put on the red light, and now we couldn't be happier!

Chicks used to seem high maintenance to me, but I've learned they're worth it. These chicks are loud, much like the one I messed around with in high school, but when you listen and observe, they really aren't that hard to please. We strive our best to satisfy them, and let me tell you, these are some happy little chicks! In fact, their peeps and chirps make our household a warmer, brighter, and cheerier place for us all.

Honestly, I'm glad this happened in the order that it did. Maybe it was fate that I was in denial for so long, and waited to get the whole family involved.

Taking our relationship to this level has only helped improve my marriage, and our son finally has some peeps at home to hang with. I'd say it is a win-win in our book.

I know you're thinking, "Where did I go wrong?!"

This is one of the few times I must admit you're right in placing blame with my father. We're all well aware of his philandering. He loved chicks too, far too much. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help but follow in his footsteps. I truly tried to avoid it, but obviously to no avail. Though I don't plan on extending my flock to the size he did, as I prefer to keep things more intimate and get consent from my spouse first, I must confess that the process is the same. In fact, what he started is continuing even in his absence as I will be using some of his same equipment.

Kinky I know, but why should I buy a new egg Candler for testing fertility when I can just use the one he had instead?

I know you hate them. I know their wings fill you with terror, and their shrill chirps and pecks drive you insane. I know you think they're dirty. I'm also acutely aware of your bird allergy, which is unfortunate. I'm doing my best to keep everything as hygienic as possible in our household throughout this process, so hopefully they won't cause too big of an issue should you decide to come visit. I promise they'll be going outside as soon as they're older.

Lastly, I know you've never been fond of my affection for chicks. If it makes the news any better, it is quite possible that one of our chicks is transitioning to a cock. I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse in your opinion, but just thought I'd let you know while the confession train is still rolling. They were a bit too young for the original owner to tell, but we bought them anyway. Love is love, after all.

Anyhow, I hope you aren't too ashamed of what I've become, and have always been. In fact, it is quite possible that I was born this way. I just wanted you to know that this is the way I live now, so hopefully one day you can accept it. I'm glad I can finally get that off my chest. Sorry, Mom, I can't help but love chicks!