Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Chicks?

Apparently, me and DH are! We had a little chicken episode this morning. Despite all the "how to handle your chickens advice," the chicks still are just terrified of me. I know it's all because of Stripe. I think he may be a rooster and he gets all crazy if I even walk by and then all the other chicks have to follow suit. Anyway, they've really been making me mad. They've all learned to fly up on their little shade box (well, except for the runt). Since they have learned how to fly up there, they keep knocking over their water. It is so annoying. Their bedding absorbed it for one day, but lo and behold I had to clean out their house again this morning. So, I'm trying to get them in another box so I can clean their's out. Well, the same box I used a few days ago will no longer work. I learned the hard way that they can now fly out of that box. So, I get a couple of the Rhode Island reds in the box and, boy howdy, they start flying around. One perches up on the edge of the box and can't really go anywhere. He's teetering and tottering, too scared to go either direction. Meanwhile, I scream (a reasonable reaction, don't ya'cha think?). DH comes in and sits there trying to push Teeter-totter with one finger and make him fly back down into the box. Teeter-totter panics and flaps all the harder and hold onto the edge of the box for dear life. Somehow, we got him back in. DH goes back to his schoolwork. I manage to get all the RI reds in the box. But the black & white chicks (Stripe and Patch) are absolutely going crazy and I cannot get them. They are flapping, running, screeching, pecking. While I'm trying to get them, the RI reds are flying out of the other box. I am screaming and I mean screaming at this point. Me: Aaaaaaah!!!!! I need help!!!!! Aaaaaaah! They're flying! They're flying! Aaaaaah! DH finally comes to my aid. But, before he comes, of course, he has to put on big leather gloves. Nothing like a 6'3" man who needs leather gloves to pick up 3 week old chicks! LOL! I know we were just a sight to be seen. DH with his gloves, me continually screaming, the RI reds flying out of the box and flapping all over the sun porch, and us trying to grab the b/w chicks and get everyone back into the box and slam a lid on it. I have a funny little feeling DH wasn't too happy with me. Dealing with those chicks is so one of those things he would prefer to not deal with, but somehow I always manage to drag us into these situations and then he has to save me. Maybe it's some sort of Scarlet O'Hara complex with a need for my Rhett to come to my rescue. Oh, well. I'll think about that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day!
Happy Easter, y'all!
Mama Said