subject: Mother and eggs derelict [print this page] Mother and eggs derelict Mother and eggs derelict
Eggs Derelict
I received an email today from a friend that pictured funny faces drawn on eggs. I have copied and pasted one here for you to get the idea.
This email reminded me of a time when I was a little younger and my wife brought home a tray of Jumbo eggs that she had bought from an egg/ poultry farm somewhere outside of town. She was very proud of her accomplishment as she could not get them from our local supermarket. The said eggs were placed on display on the kitchen counter so she could brag about their size and expected numerous double yolks every time she passed them or there was anybody near them that would listen.
Not long after her egg buying accomplishment she went to some ladies meeting, leaving me and Choppy, my son, so known for the way he can consume chops at a barbecue, or any food for that matter. Anybody that has a son between the ages of thirteen and twenty three knows all about the vacuum cleaner like properties of a growing boy. All available food, in fridge, on fridge and next to fridge is sucked in and swallowed and if the fridge was not that big I'm sure that it too would be sucked up, cleaned out and then spat out like a watermelon pip. But again I digress.
We were left to our own devices and had to make lunch for ourselves, which wasn't a problem as we were of the domesticated male variety. We were sitting at the kitchen counter eating our sandwiches when one of us had the idea of hard boiling two of mother's prized Jumbo eggs, then placing them back in the tray with the others to await developments. We also glued a further two into the tray with contact adhesive. Now, to reveal who the mastermind was would be dangerous, because I would have to kill you afterwards, so for your safety and ours, the culprit shall remain anonymous.
Anyhow, my mother came to stay with us for a few days and the next morning we were all sitting around the breakfast table chatting while mom made her famous mixed grill breakfasts. She took the first egg and cracked it on the side of the pan, then took the next, which she also cracked on the pan. Nothing happened, so she cracked it again, harder this time, but again nothing happened. A look of confusion crossed her face for an instant before rounding on Choppy and I, to see why he was convulsing on the floor and I was turning purple from constrained laughter. She immediately suspected me of skullduggery and tried to crack the suspect egg into a glass before realizing that it was hard boiled. She burst out laughing and launched the hard boiled egg at my head, which missed by a hair and smashed on the wall for the dogs to enjoy. We assured her that there weren't any more hard boiled ones so she continued with the frying, until she tried to pull an egg from the tray which appeared to be stuck. My wife, by this stage, was shooting daggers at us and miming throat slashing motions across her throat, while she rushed to help mother get the eggs out of the tray. The stuck egg popped, and sprayed its contents all over her church clothes, that she had already donned, in readiness for our weekly visit to our local church.
Choppy and I had made one fatal error in our calculations in that neither of us remembered that eggshells are porous and all the chemicals had been drawn through the shell which caused the contents to rot. The smell that escaped the popped egg was something else and though we thought it was funny my mother and my wife were extremely angry. We gobble up our food and even after we washed the dishes and cleaned up we weren't forgiven. We put the "ruined" clothes into the washing machine, carried all parcels to the car and fussed with doors, seatbelts and things, but to no avail. Mother, mother and daughter, who knew which side it was best to support, took up residence in the back seat while the disgraced egg tricksters were forced to sit in front and drive.
My daughter sat between the feuding parties at church and kept restraining my mother from giving me a hiding. Even at fifty I was told "you're never too old to get a hiding my boy".
After a while we were forgiven, but our prank was never forgotten by either of them. To this day my wife always says, "now don't do anything stupid while I'm gone" just before she says goodbye. Yeh! Sure! Like we ever would! I mean really!
