I tightened the last bolt on our solar chicken door and sat back to look at my work. It was a little crooked and I could see daylight on one side, but it worked. It would keep out predators. “Good enough for a Sutton,” I said to my four-year-old son Sawyer next to me. “Want to try it out?”
Given Sawyer’s level of excitement, I might have just asked him if he wanted to get a puppy, which I was definitely not asking. Fifteen new chicks were enough tiny animals for this single mom.
notSaw jumped up and slapped his still-chubby fingers over the solar gauge, then pumped his fist in the air when the door slid shut. “We did it!” he shouted. “You are a genius, Mom.”
I smiled. I’d started saying that when I successfully constructed his wooden train set without any extraneous pieces, and he’d qui
