Do you remember buying these bright colored chicks at Easter?
My senior year in high school at San Marcos Baptist Academy, my roommate, let's call her Sharon, came back to the dormitory room one weekend with a pink chick. She thought it was so funny and cute.Sharon even had baby-chick food for Pinkie, its new name; but how in the world were we going to hide that chick from Shelly, the housemother, who was living at the end of our hallway? We were frequently in trouble, so I knew what could possibly happen if she found this chick in our room.
That same night, hours after Lights Out at 10pm, the chick must have gotten cold because it started "peeping." Sharon was a hard sleeper and did not stir. So, I quickly turned on my desk lamp and covered the chick with heat from the lamp. That worked. Pinkie quieted down and went back to sleep. So did I.
Later, I don't know when, Pinkie started making LONG LOUD peeps, so I thought that maybe making another change would shut down the peeps. So, I turned off the lamp. WRONG! The chick went crazy loud. In desperation and half asleep, I grabbed the chick and with it in my hand, I forced open our window, looked out and saw that there were bushes next to the building-- three floors down.
Not thinking, I reached way out with Pinkie in my hand, and dropped that noisy chick. Bye bye Pinkie! I watched Pinkie flutter all the way down and saw it land in the bushes. It was still alive. Yay! Goodnight bird. I closed the window, forgot about it, and went back to bed.
Next time I was awake was when my roommate yelled, "Where is my Pinkie?" She was a sound sleeper and missed all of my actions. I didn't remember where it was until I looked at the window and said, "Uht oh." I quickly got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon said nothing when I explained having to fool with this bird.
It was after 7am so I knew the front door to the girls dormitory was unlocked. I went out looking for Pinkie. I found that little chick way under our window leaning up against the building, shivering... I felt so bad. I picked it up and kept it in my warm hand and went back upstairs and put it under the lamp. It was alive.
Later, in a group waiting to go into Breakfast, two trouble-maker kids, who lived on the first floor because they had to be monitored, approached me and asked what I had been doing early that morning outside their window on the first floor. I told them about the pink chick. They were furious at me because their housemother ransacked their room that morning saying that she had heard sounds and just knew they were hiding something. I owed them.
After breakfast, I saw a cleaning woman who was sweeping the hallway. I asked her in Spanish if she could use a pink chick. I had to do some explaining about what a pink chick was. Ha! She said, "Si, Como no." So I went to get Pinkie and its food. She smiled, thanked me and put the chick in her pocket as she continued to sweep the floor. Poor Pink Chick! What a life!
That may be why you can't buy them in colors any more.
