Reasons not to be a baby penguin

If the sun is up, we cannot see it. Henry, Jane, and I have on our raincoats as we trudge through the rain to the barn for the early morning chores.

The kids have embraced the jobs on the farm. They're enjoying the rhythms of this place so much more this year.

The rain makes a terrific noise on the corrugated metal roof of the chicken barn. It is a comforting sound that seems to have stirred something deep from within Jane.

Jane: Dad, I would hate to be a baby penguin.

Me: Okaaaay. What made you think of that?

Jane: It's just, I would hate to have to eat penguin vomit.

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