She sat up a little and took an egg from my palm. “Eggs, huh. How many do you suppose they’ll lay?” “I have no idea.”
As it turns out, my hens laid more eggs than we could eat.
At first we tried to keep up, but soon we were tired of boiling and pickling and deviling,
and my mother started complaining that all these free eggs were costing her way too much.
Then one afternoon as I was collecting eggs, our neighbor Mrs. Stueby leaned over the side fence and said,
“If you ever have any extra, I’d be happy to buy them from you.”
“Really?” I asked. “Most certainly. Nothing quite like free-range eggs. Two dollars a dozen sound fair to you?”
Two dollars a dozen! I laughed and said, “Sure!” “Okay, then. Whenever you have some extras, just bring ’em over.
Mrs. Helms and I got to discussing it last night on the phone, but I asked you first,
so make sure you offer ’em up to me before her, okay, Juli?” “Sure thing, Mrs. Stueby!”
Between Mrs. Stueby and Mrs. Helms three doors down, my egg overflow problem was solved.
And maybe I should’ve turned the money over to my mother as payment for having destroyed the backyard,
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