Logan went to feed the animals this morning with Cyan, and a few minutes later I hear this worried little voice as he comes back down the hallway, he said "Mama. Bessy sick. Lookit... her eye."
He was carrying his own chick... which he named Bessy, and he was really worried... but I was shocked he was carrying her so tenderly. He is not a gentle child by any stretch, although very sweet. But his hugs are usually of the running, jumping, and hanging variety. So I was at once touched by his gentleness and obvious concern for his chicken.
I looked at her eye and it seems that another chicken had done her business a bit too close to her face. She was yucky, but luckily not sick. I got a wet rag and cleaned it off her face.... And all the while, my rough and tumble, gun-obsessed toddler was whispering (another something he does not do often) sweet baby talk to the frightened chick. "Oh, it ok. Mama gonna clean you up. It ok, Bessy. You'll be aw-right."
It was a very charming way to start the morning. :)