I win the Pullet Surprise

HappyfirstdayofSpringguesswhatIgot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We had discussed this calmly and rationally. Since Maggie (Not Her Real Name) and Bjorn (You Guessed It!) have genuine real-world chicken experience, I decided to take their advice and do this chicken thing right. So it was going to be ten Barred Plymouth Rock hens and one Rhode Island Red rooster. There were all kinds of perfectly good reasons for this. I called the farm supply store and they were due to receive day-old chicks today, Barred Rocks, Rhode Island Reds, and Orpingtons. The chicks were due to arrive at the store "around 2:00, you should call and check."

Oh, they would be sorry for that. I became the annoying brat caller that never lets up.

"Got your chickens yet?" at 10 a.m.

"Not yet, probably around 2:00."

"Chickens yet? Chickens yet? Chickens yet? Chickensyet chickensyet chickensyetchickensyetchickensyet . . . "

Finally, at the 2 p.m. call, the voice on the other end said, "We just got a call from the post office, so someone is going to pick them up now and then they're going to the bank, so it should be about 45 minutes."

Woo-hoo! I was about a 30-minute drive away, so by the time I forgot my keys, etc. I was on my way within 15 minutes. I had a box all prepared with wood shavings in the bottom to bring the babies home in. When I walked in the front door of the store, I could hear the peeping and made a beeline for the sound.

"Good timing!" the man standing by the chick pen said. "They just got here."

"Um, I called ahead (85 times). So, which are which?"

"The dark ones are Jersey Black Giants and the yellow ones are New Hampshire Reds."

"Er, I thought you were going to have different kinds."

"We have to depend on what the hatchery sends us."

This is where a grown-up woman would ask when the Barred Rocks and Rhode Island Reds were due to arrive, and leave with that knowledge and nothing else.

I don't know anyone like that.