Five more minutes
Dad always knew exactly when it was time to get up. He stood tall, straightened his magnificent tail feathers and crowed so loudly that the little one retreated to the bottom of the eggshell.
“Five more minutes,” the chick mumbled.
Mum bent down.
“Yesterday you said you would wake us today.”
A tiny beak appeared above the shell.
“I am awake. It is just my feet that are still asleep.”
Dad tried very hard to keep a straight face. He managed until the little one spread its wings, lifted its head and tried to crow.
One tiny squeak came out.
Then silence.
“That was just a rehearsal,” the chick announced.
By mid-morning, one foot had woken up too. Carefully, the little one lifted it over the shell and set it on the ground. Mum leaned closer, but let the chick make the move. She waited for the other foot to follow.
After two uncertain steps, the chick disappeared behind Dad’s magnificent tail feathers.
“Where did our little one go?” Dad asked, although he could see a tiny beak peeking out beside his feathers.
Mum looked around.
“Just here a moment ago.”
A giggle came from behind the tail.
That afternoon, Dad arrived with a small flower. He placed it before Mum and bowed a little.
“I found this for you.”
The chick immediately began searching. At last, it dragged over a perfectly ordinary pebble.
“And I found this.”
Mum placed the two gifts side by side.
By evening, the chick had climbed back into its shell. Its head was resting on the rim when it looked up once more.
“Will you be here tomorrow too?”
Mum gently touched her beak to the chick’s.
“Yes.”
This time, Dad spoke so softly that he would not have woken even the sleepiest chick.
“But tomorrow morning, you do the crowing.”
“All right,” whispered the little one. “Just five minutes later.”
