Chickens

Mikie and Lili have chickens and with chickens comes chicken responsibilities. There's 12 of them. They lay delicious eggs. All twelve. The chickens have names, sort of. Any two of them standing together: Eggbert and Shelly. If there is another pair close by, they are Eggbert and Shelly, too. If one chicken pecks alone, she is Shelly.
Lili has already mastered the "coop cleanse." The birds have been free-ranged. Smiling neighbors come by to offer their wisdom and assistance with the chickens, though not one noticed I was limping a little.
Shaggy and Moxie are nonplussed by Eggbert and Shelly, especially when they are out a-pecking in the yard. Tara, the chicken-sitter, refers to the flock as strange chickens. I'll take her word for it, though the only piece of evidence I have seen is that they peck your pant legs if you're wearing pants. Most will switch to your shoes if you have no pant legs to occupy them. There are two who make no switch. They pretend you are wearing long pants even when you are not. Perhaps Tara thinks they are strange because most chickens never pretend.