Wait… Make That 13.

The One That Wasn’t Supposed to Be Here

A Front Porch Story — Part Two

Y’all.

Remember when I told you we ordered 10 Cornish Cross chicks and somehow ended up with 12?

Remember me standing over that box, counting and recounting because surely I had made a mistake?

Remember Jordan laughing and saying:

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

And remember how we finally accepted that apparently chicken math had gotten so advanced around here that it was happening before the chickens even got out of the shipping box?

Well.

I owe everybody an update.

Because apparently…

THERE WERE THIRTEEN.

😭

Let me explain.

After yesterday’s inventory investigation, I was satisfied that we had twelve chicks.

Not ten.

Twelve.

I had counted them several times. I had photographic evidence. I had accepted our two unexpected additions to the family.

Case closed.

Or so I thought.

The next morning, I was at work doing what I am actually paid to do: talking to patients, scheduling appointments, being a responsible adult when Jordan sent me a picture.

I looked down at my phone.

There was a chick.

Standing on the deck.

Outside the brooder.

Just… standing there.

🐥

Now naturally, my first thought was:

HOW DID ONE OF THOSE CHICKENS GET OUT?!

Because what ELSE was I supposed to think?

We had twelve chickens.

The chickens were supposed to be contained.

There was now a chicken standing freely on the deck like it had somewhere to be.

And please understand the difficulty of trying to continue a perfectly normal conversation with a patient while staring at a picture on your phone, thinking:

What the hell is going on at my house?!

😂

So I’m trying to remain professional while mentally investigating yet another apparent breach in 1737 livestock controls.

Except…

The chick hadn’t gotten out.

That was the problem.

The chick had never gotten IN.

Apparently, sometime during all the excitement when the chicks arrived, one little Cornish Cross hopped out of the shipping box.

Nobody saw it.

Not me.

Not Jordan.

And apparently, Chick #13 decided that was perfectly fine.

Because that baby spent the night.

ON. THE. DECK.

Y’all.

A tiny baby chick.

Fresh out of a shipping box.

Spent its first night at 1737 roaming the deck completely unsupervised.

And survived.

Then morning came, and Jordan found it wandering around near everybody else like:

“Good morning. I believe my accommodations are in there.”

Sir.

Ma’am.

WHOEVER YOU ARE.

😂😂😂

So now let’s revisit yesterday.

I ordered ten.

I counted twelve.

I counted again.

Still twelve.

I counted AGAIN.

Still twelve.

And the entire time, number thirteen had apparently already left the meeting.

😭

That means while I was standing there conducting a full inventory audit, one chicken was literally missing from inventory.

We didn’t receive two bonus chicks.

We received THREE.

One of them just failed to report for check-in.

And do you know what makes this whole thing worse?

Jordan.

Because when we discovered twelve chicks yesterday, this man smiled, laughed, and said:

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

And apparently Chick #13 heard him and said:

“Neither do I.”

😂😂😂

Because I have never seen such Jordan energy packed into such a tiny yellow body.

No panic.

No explanation.

No apparent concern about spending the night alone on a deck.

Just showed up the next morning ready to join everybody else.

Basically:

I’m here now. What’s the problem?

And that is when I realized something.

We didn’t get a thirteenth chicken.

We got Little Jordan.

🐥

The universe apparently looked at this homestead and said:

“You know what this place needs? Another living creature that does whatever it wants and sees absolutely no problem with it.”

And sent me the miniature version.

So, yes.

I would like to formally correct yesterday’s Front Porch report.

We ordered 10.

We thought we received 12.

We actually received 13.

And at this point, I am officially withdrawing myself from all livestock inventory responsibilities at 1737 Urban Homestead.

Do not ask me how many chickens we have.

I don’t know.

I’m not counting again.

From this point forward, the official answer is:

Somewhere between 10 and however many Jordan doesn’t have a problem with.

😂

Little Jordan has now joined the others and, hopefully, will be moving into The Lanai with the rest of the crew without any further independent travel plans.

Although, considering how the first 24 hours went, I make no promises.

So welcome home, Chick #13.

You survived the night.

You found your people.

You earned yourself a Front Porch story before you even officially checked in.

And somehow, you already fit right in around here.

Cultivating community. Harvesting home. And apparently operating without livestock controls OR border security.

Whew.

Only at 1737. 😂🐥