skirttwlr

I have been feeling so guilty all week, ever since I stole an egg from the nest of the small bald child living just across the street. What was I thinking? What am I thinking?? What will I be thinking this time tomorrow???

It made a very tasty omelette though.

Well. It was alright.

I just cant resist a good egg. In fact I have always dreamed of being raised by a family of eggs in the jungle. Or in a forest. Or on a big boat. Those caring eggs would accept me for who I was and make me feel like just another egg in the enormous egg box we call life.

I wonder where eggs come from. It must take a long long time to get all the yolk into that thin shell. Surely it would make more sense to package egg whites and yolks in cans. After all, egg shells are so very fragile.*

And why do chickens spend so much time sitting on eggs? If I was a farmer I'd train my hens to sit on proper chairs like the rest of us. Those feathered freaks!


*Fragile is another word for delicate.