Yesterday I took my children to my cousin's photography studio, where she photographed each of them holding one or more of the above animals. Now I recognize that as a mother, there should be an instinctual response of some sort which would prohibit me from enjoying a scenario in which my child is actively upset. Turns out, this is not the case.
There was my toddler, substantially larger than the harmless little yellow chick placed next to him, petrified. Now it's not like it was charging him, mind you, the fuzzy thing was literally standing still, blinking; with an occasional ironic "peep". I don't know, maybe he thought it would out-cute him. It was like watching the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. The visual just has such perfect 'recall with a chuckle' longevity. And judging from the glimpses of the shots I got to see, Jacki was able to capture the situation, comedy in tow. You better believe I'm going to buy those prints (he had a similar reaction to a duckling). My son will be a teenager one day and evidence he was once terrified of baby farm animals is like mommy gold.
For the record, my older two children had the response you would expect from exposure to such high levels of adorableness. When the animals were given to them their eyes danced and sparkled in pure bliss, coupled with intermittent uncontrollable giggling. Truth be told my youngest was able to enjoy the little fuzzies too, at a safe distance. I think this is the reaction parents are looking for when they buy their children chicks or bunnies for Easter; that magic moment of seeing their children enthralled by children of another species. And after that's over, guess who's stuck dealing with all the ensuing poop? Nope, we'll savor the moment through images and memories, traumatizing as they may be, and leave the future chickens, rabbits and ducks to the farmers so that we may one day enjoy them again... in another way.
I like to throw things.