The baby chicken phenomenon has escalated in our house. I believe Ryan left with around 2 dozen baby chickens made out of construction paper in his suitcase. Then once he was gone Jack made two more for me and said that they had names. I asked what the first one's name was and he said that he wrote it "right dare" and pointed to the circles he doodled on it. I said "yes, but what does it say? What's his name?" and Jack replied "ummm...Uncle Ry Ry Loves Me." That's the name of the chicken.
Later he made two for Chuck (apparently baby chickens are only born in pairs), who was unsure what to do with them. Jack said for him to pet them, which he did. Then Chuck asked what else he was supposed to do with them and Jack said "be nice my chickens."
Possible careers for Jack based on his interests/obsessions thus far:
bus driver, engineer, piano/hatar player, police man at Mall of America (where he thinks the African children live), and now...chicken farmer.
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