All normal people put baby chicks in the bathtub. I'm sure of it...that's the way we did it when I was a kid. Musing on that today makes me wonder how we took a bath since we only had one bathroom, but I don't have a memory of it at all. That is one to ask my mom.
Our chicks ended up in the tub, because only four of the 26 we ordered survived the shipping; which is apparently pretty grueling.
They were hatched last Friday, scanned in on Sat, flew around the country on Sunday (stopping at three airports), then were delivered on Monday. To open a box of mostly dead chicks was like being on the butt end of a really bad practical joke. If you really hate someone, send them a box of dead chicks in a box labeled "LIVE BABY CHICKS: PLEASE RUSH." Clearly the USPS doesn't know what RUSH means...and seriously, three airports....can't they get a direct flight to DFW?
Needless to say it was a rough morning. I kept it together until I got the four little ones ensconced in the tub with a heat lamp, food, water, and grit. Then I went out to deal with the 22 bodies. I felt very responsible for their deaths since it was my order that caused them to be boxed up and flown around the country, so I had to bury them properly. I will spare you the details, but just say that I took each out of the box, laid them respectfully together one by one in a long, narrow hole and wept over each and every one.
I suspect their deaths were horrifying and the only comfort I have is that I gave them back to the Earth.