I'm always attracted to that box of fuzzy chicks in the Easter aisle. I see them there, sitting on the store shelves almost like they're screaming at me, "Help! We can't breathe in here! Let us out! We just want to be free!". I can't help myself. I buy them. Nostalgia? Or maybe I can just admit that they are fuzzy and soft and I like to 'pet' them. I'm not embarrassed. You would like it to.