Since I have been fighting the burdens of morning sickness for weeks now, Roy has been taking care of the chickens and the cat litter for me. The cat litter he insisted on doing himself but I have guilted him into taking care of the chickens as well. "Hey, you did this to me so you need to pitch in with the feeding and watering of the ladies in what has become a very smell coop. Layers of straw and composting poop making a warm coop and great fertilizer, but the smell is quite overpowering since I have developed the smelling capabilities of a bloodhound.
Last night I asked him to check the water and fill the feeders. He went to the basement to fill the two spare fonts and it seemed to be taking a longer time than usual. I then heard a huge commotion from the basement which sounded like someone throwing the recycling bins around.
Standing at the top of the stairs, I watched as Roy came up the stairs with one full font in hand. he was obviously mad.
I did not want to ask what happened because I was literally afraid to. I thought he had slipped on the floor and fallen or something bad.
Turns out he had a fight with the font and it had "exploded" with water going everywhere. And it also turns out that this was not true. He could not get the bottom on the font after multiple tries and the font ended up being thrown against the wall, breaking it.
Granted, the bottoms can be a little tricky to get on just right and it can be annoying, but I think we have some anger management issues here.
This long winter is taking its toll. We just got 6 inches of new snow yesterday after a previous day of rain and 50 degrees. Lets get this season wrapped up and done with before I run out of fonts.