It is not a news flash that men and women often approach things differently. And every day in our chicken run Elaine and I are testament to that tendency.
For example, every day we give our five hens and Little Jerry a slice of bread or two, as this is one of our flock's favorite treats. When it is Elaine's turn to feed our birds, she tears and divides the bread so that each chicken will have a chance to eat a bit or two. She says this is the polite, civilized way to conduct matters.
I, on the other hand, delight in tossing an entire slice into the run and watching the whole flock compete for the prize. Invariably, one hen picks up the slice and tries to run away from the other hens to a corner of the run. Also, invariably, before that first hen reaches a corner, several of the other ladies have swiped bits and pieces from the hen's mouth. Then Little Jerry picks up some sliver of a slice, gives the food cluck, and expects the hens to come to him for their reward - which they do not do.
The result is mass chaos, hens chasing each other all over the run, Little Jerry giving off non-stop food clucks with no hen paying any attention to him. And me? I am doubled over with laughter at the Keystone Cops hilarity of the entire affair. Meanwhile, Elaine is reprimanding me for my actions.