A little... Mix up

Yesterday, Nana and I woke up at six-thirty to begin what is now every day tameing sessions with Megan, my Grandpa's rescued horse. We brushed and combed her mane,wiped a few coats of fly spray over her, and gave her a little exercise both in the corral and out.By the time we finished, I was a little over an hour late for work. I rushed into my bed room,pulled on my super stinky work clothes, ran down to the kitchen and was stuffing my face with cerel when my brother J. walked in cupping his hands to his chest, covering what ever he had from my view. The air he brought with him smelled of a a combined odor of clothes that had not been washed for weeks and warm fresh rice hulls,(baby chick bedding), which doubtlessly indicated that he had been working with the new chicks that came this morning. I paused eating just long enough to glance at the fuzzy yellow thing he was holding and ask, ''Is that a chick?'' I started eating again, when j. said, ''Nope, guess. I'm not going to tell you, but it got mixed in with the chicks''. I looked up, this time a little harder. My first guess was one of the cool cell kitties, but then, before I could say it aloud, two little webbed feet popped from the cracks of J's fingers, and a little yellow billed head. It peeped. I gasped. ''Mixed with chicks? '' I asked incrediously, droping my spoon and reaching for the struggling duckling. J told me that there were 4 others, and that Nana said we could raise them. We haven' t named them yet, but to tell whitch belongs to who, we painted their toe nails.