Little Mama T-Rex

One early Spring day a little hen decided to sit. She sat and sat and sat.



The little farm lady thought to herself, "Already? Didn't we just finish butchering the ones from last year? Do we have to do this again?"

But chicks are so much fun.

So. Much. Fun.



"Fine. You can have four eggs. Just a few."



By the next morning, something had changed. The little farm lady could see it in those beady little eyes. No question about it.

The sweet little hen had turned into a vicious protective little Mama Tyrannosaurus Rex. A whole lot of nasty packed into one little bird. Shrieking and growling and feathers up on end.

And the beak...



Dang! That beak is sharp!



That crafty little reptile had stolen another egg! She was sitting on five!

The third morning the little farm lady finally remembered to bring a pencil to the coop. A pencil. To mark the incubating eggs so any additional unauthorized eggs could be identified and removed from the nest in the coming days. You know, because if we can't have four, five is a decent number of chicks too.

Mama T-Rex and the little farm lady had come to an agreement. Five eggs. Not too few, not too many. Just five. We'd mark the eggs today and that would be the end of the drama.

Except someone didn't keep her end of the bargain.

Chickens are thieves.

Houston, we have a problem.