Those aren't chickens

We have a couple of chickens that Porter likes to play with. This picture is the first of many times I have gone outside to find my boys playing in the chicken cage. One time I caught them just as they were scurrying inside, I was curious how Mason was able to get in so I watched. Porter lifts the door, then holds it open as Mason crawls in. Then they are stuck till I pull them out, at least Mason is. Then they are off to take a bath. Sometimes I'll be in the house (I leave the back door open when Porter's out there so I can call to him every once in a while or hear if he's hurt) and hear Porter screaming. I immediately run outside and he's yelling "momma, momma...chicken bite me, no bite." So I carefully get him out. So he's been pecked at a few times but that doesn't stop him from going in again. I'm thinking Brent is going to have to build a play house or some kind of cool fort for the boys to play in so they won't crawl around in all that chicken gunk. YUCK!! Porter even crawls up the little stairs to the second level. One other chicken story. Porter was yelling for me so I grab Mason, who has a wad of something in his mouth, and rush to the first priority, the screaming one. Once Porter is safe and sound I turn to Mason stick my finger in his mouth and pull a mouth full of chicken poop out. I've gotten past the whole 'watching for any tiny thing that they might put in their mouth', but chicken POOP is definitely over the line. Well "what doesn't kill'em makes them stronger"....right?!