The ever tolerant husband gallently embarked on a mercy dash to the local country store to purchase a new bulb. I chewed my nails nervously, hoping that the chicks wouldn't have hypothermia. The chicks ignored my fretting, and pecked the box enthusiastically, making sure it wasn't edible. The new bulb was dropped at the door en route to the ever tolerant husband's real business of the day, and with relief I returned the peeps to their brooder. With marvellous aplomb, they turned their back on the heat and headed back to the sand bath. They seem completely unfazed by the whole episode, where as I think I have added a couple of wrinkles to the collection.
The unruffled peeps.
The suspected boy, complete with curling feathers.
The straight feathers on the other two are clear. Typical.
Hopefully, the gender divide should get more obvious in the next week.