I WAS MAD, heading upwards to livid. I was in the coop collecting eggs and tending the mama hen and new chicks. My oldest came into the little building looking for a tool, then left—latching the door from the outside. I hadn't realized it for a few minutes until I was done with my chores and he had moved on to his. I stood looking out the glass in the door at the boy across the yard wearing his headphones and dancing while raking. It was quite cool outside, but my temperature was rising in a hurry. I had no phone. I had no tools. I had no jacket.

Screaming and banging would be fruitless and just make me angrier than I already was. He had purposely locked me in there years ago, but didn’t go far as he valued his freedom. Today was a little different. I stood there looking around, and I only had one option—the poop door.

Now, inside my coop, there is a platform about 12” x 18” inside the pop door where my lovely feathered friends stand and poop before deciding what to do next. The outside of the doorway also has a little platform over a bunch of large rocks. Without any other choice, I lay on my side, stuck both feet out of the little 12” x 20” door, and began scooting my way to freedom.

The filth splattered all over the inside stoop smeared and/or crumbled into chunks, grinding into my jeans and sweatshirt. In case you didn’t know, chicken poo smells like burning tires. I already had mud all over me from a romp with my horse earlier in the day, and now I’m quite a sight. I stomped over to the poor kid and let him have it...and ended up apologizing because this time he wasn’t intentional in my imprisonment. He never even glanced at the coop once while I was giving him the stare down before my escape, which is his norm when looking for a reaction.

I have 2 customers due here any minute to pick up work, and I’m a mess. See why you will NEVER hear me say I am bored? Who has time for that? There is always something going on. Have a great day. I hope yours is poop-free.