The Simplest Pleasures by Alex P.

The Simplest Pleasures by Alex P

It’s true that in life you should stop and smell the roses, so on the day we got our second batch of chickens, Zach and I did just that.

We woke up that morning feeling normal. We got on our shirt, socks, and glasses, went down for breakfast, and everything was normal, all up until we asked Dad what we were doing today.

“We’re getting our new chickens!” He said.

“Really?” Zach said, acting as if he was just told he won the lottery. I don’t blame him! I thought.

“Yes!” I exclaimed enthusiastically.

“What did you want, again?” Zach asked me.

“A Leghorn. You?”

“An Americana.” He replied. On the way, Mom showed us pictures of what our chickens would look like when they were older. The Leghorn was going to have mustard yellow feet, a red comb, and white feathers. The americana looked a lot like an owl, and it had a beard! The Brahma (Dad’s) was white with black streaks on the neck, and it had feathery feet. The barred rock was black with white spots, and mom’s was just going to look like a small grey chicken with black around its eyes. we arrived at Bomgaars, and we went to the chicks, Zach and I leading the way. I heard chirping! Past that shelf of grilling supplies, gardening tools, everything smelling brand new...Cheep! Another shelf, sacks of dog food, and then...we saw them! Closer, closer, and then….My heart fell.

The coop had six sections, three on the bottom, and three on the top. The air was full of innocent chirping noises.

Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! Cheep-Cheep-Cheep!

“Where are the Leghorns?” I asked.

“They might not have any.” Mom answered. She was right. One sign said Leghorn, but it was bare.

“Aw man! Oh, well. Ooh! What are these?” I looked at the tag on the door to the right.

Red Sexlink

“How about one of these?” Dad said. I looked at the smallest one He looked at me. It was a golden brown, like a waffle. I stared at him. He stared back.

Hey! How about that? I thought.

“Hi.” I said, feeling like this was a stupid thing to do.

Cheep-Cheep!

He hopped over to the door of the coop and cocked his head at me, like he was looking at a tasty bug.

“Whoa! Cool!” I exclaimed.

“Well, do you want that one?”

“I don’t have a name yet!” I said, carefully reaching for the small one.

“Waffles? How about Waffles?” Zach suggested.

“Let him choose!” Mom said, flicking Zach’s shoulder.

“No, I like Waffles. Thanks, Z!”

“You're welcome. Well, let’s go.” And we walked out with our chicks. After that, we put our chickens in a little chicken box. We took them to Grandma Judy’s house. Grandma Judy is a chicken expert, and we wanted to know if ours were good layers.

“Hi, Kiddo. How are you?” Grandma said hugging me and then Zach.

”We got chickens!” I said happily. A few minutes later, after I learned that Waffles was a great layer, I went outside with Waffles. She really was small; small enough for her to stand on my finger like a parakeet!

“Aww! Look at you!” I said in a baby voice.

Cheep! Cheep-cheep! She was quivering like mad.

“I love you!” I said, putting a finger on the vibrating chicken.

Cheep-Cheep. Cheep-cheep-cheep-cheep-cheep-cheep-cheep!

It was then that I realized the weird, painful burning sensation in my chest was probably (Hopefully, at least) my heart melting. Just then, the door opened and Zach, Mom, and Dad came out.

“Let’s go!” She said, holding the box out. I lowered the vibrating chick into the box, and she jumped off. I seriously thought I would float away because my heart was so light.

And from that day on, the smallest, once golden brown, now deep red chicken was to be named Waffles, and loved always by me, Zach, Mom, and Dad, along with Tauntaun, Dwayne Johnson, Egglentine (who ran away), the bearded lady (who died), along with coop veterans S.B.F.B (Super Benny Feather Bolt) and Pecky Jackson. You know, that day, they could have given me anything. They could’ve announced that I’d just one the lottery, or gotten super powers, but my parents got me a chicken. A small, flightless, pretty much useless, bird. But I would have given anything for the simple pleasure of having him, and as we drove home, I realized that the simplest pleasures, from getting chickens to playing with them, to bringing them home, are the best pleasures of life. Cheep!