Today I found my children out in the backyard. They had found a piece of Styrofoam. Abigail was breaking off tiny little pieces and throwing them at Logan, who was crawling on his hands and knees like a crazy person grabbing at tiny little white bits of foam. I told Abby to stop because I did not want Logan to eat the foam. She looked at me and said, "that's not Logan. It is a chicken. I am feeding him. This is the hen house."
She proceeded to throw foam at her brother.
Oh well. At least they are quiet.
(oh, okay...I did watch to ensure my son was not eating the chicken food.)