Chicken Chaos: My Feathered Friends Are Testing My Patience!
Life on the farm is many things—peaceful, rewarding, full of fresh air. But let’s be real: when it comes to chickens, it’s also pure chaos wrapped in feathers. People think hens just cluck softly, peck around politely, and lay eggs like it’s their patriotic duty. Wrong. My flock has turned “testing my patience” into an Olympic-level sport.
Take mornings, for example. I roll out of bed, coffee in hand, dreaming of a calm stroll to the coop. But before I even reach the gate, the soundtrack begins. Thirty hens screaming like they’re auditioning for a horror movie. You’d think I starved them for weeks, not twelve hours. And heaven forbid I’m late—suddenly, it’s a feathered protest march, complete with angry pacing and side-eye.
Then there’s the drama. Chickens don’t just live together, they feud like reality TV stars. One steals a worm, another squawks like she’s been personally betrayed, and before I know it, there’s a full-on WWE smackdown happening in the run. Feathers flying, wings flapping, me yelling, “Ladies! This is not a cage match!” Do they listen? Of course not.
Egg collection isn’t any easier. People picture gathering fresh eggs like some serene Pinterest post. In reality, I’ve got hens who treat the nesting boxes like Fort Knox. Sit on an egg too long and suddenly they’re in attack mode, pecking like I’m the enemy. Nothing humbles you faster than losing a standoff with a two-pound bird.
And don’t get me started on escape artists. I swear some of my chickens could star in Prison Break. No matter how secure I make that run, there’s always one hen who finds the loophole. Next thing I know, she’s parading through the yard, taunting the others, while I’m sprinting around like a lunatic trying to catch her. Spoiler alert: chickens are faster than you think.
But here’s the thing—I complain, I huff, I roll my eyes… and then I laugh. Because as much as they drive me absolutely insane, these feathered friends are also endlessly entertaining. Their chaos is part of the charm. And let’s be honest, farm life would be a lot quieter—and a whole lot duller—without them.
So yes, my patience gets tested daily. Yes, I sometimes wonder why I signed up for this. But then I crack open a warm, fresh egg for breakfast, hear that ridiculous chorus of clucks, and realize: this is just chicken math. Equal parts frustration and joy.
And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
