Thoughts

What a way to start off the week. Making myself breakfast this morning I came across The Mystery Egg. If you have never encountered one of your own, please allow me a moment to explain. In my carton of eggs I noticed one was a bit larger than the rest; oversized if you will. Not only do I enjoy eating, but eggs are on the list of things I like. A bigger egg in my carton pleased me to no end. You can imagine my sudden guilt as I felt that I was cheating the system. I had paid for 12 normal eggs, and not 11 normal eggs plus 1 behemoth egg. I was originally leaning towards it being an ostrich egg, but women's intuition tells me maybe it is not an ostrich, but rather a Tyranasaurus Rex egg! Wait, women's intuition? Ignore that.

It was one egg to rule them all, and I here it was in my carton...rather, stuck to my carton. Disappointment set in as, in the realm of eggs, one stuck to the carton means that it is a broken one. When chipped and/or cracked, spilt contents will adhere rather strongly to the carton. If common sense does not tell you this already, please disregard this egg. Attempting to consume such an egg would not produce healthy results.

After some careful massaging and caressing of my gargantuan egg, I finally was able to sever the carton's grip and my egg was free at last. Disappointment became elation when after my ordinary and prudent review, the egg shell was solid and completely intact.

I am no egg connoisseur, but I do purchase them from time to time for various purposes, or purpi if it pleases you. Cooking, baking, decorating your favorite teacher's house, whatever. One thing that I have never come across in my short time on Earth is an egg such as this. Not only was it a bit bigger than usual, but it also has some...issue...with its contents. An exercise for us to do together is this: go to your refrigerator and pull an egg out of the carton. Now, hold it near your ear and shake it gently. You should not hear anything, nor should you feel anything as the contents dance inside the shell. My mystery egg failed one, not both of those criteria.

Something was definitely moving inside my egg. Not on its own, but moving none the less. After careful deliberation, I have decided not to eat the mystery egg, but this chapter of my life will not close so easily. There is one piece of my puzzle missing. The way I see it, there are two options before me.

1. Defy the burning curiosity and dispose of the mystery egg, never to hear from it again.

This option may be the safest for mankind if the mystery egg may contain the apocalypse. How guilty would I feel if I unleash the end of the world? Tell me you would like that on your conscience. Not me, no thanks.

2. Take ownership of the curiosity and crack the egg.

I would not eat the mystery egg, that ship has sailed. However, I feel that I may contribute something to the state of modern science with my examining the contents of the mystery egg. You never know, it may contain the cure for cancer; or maybe even herpes. Imagine NOT getting your picture on the cover of Time Magazine for curing herpes all because you didn't crack open the mystery egg. Sounds glamorous, but it is not without danger. The risk here is that I may develop such a debilitating phobia of eggs that I am unable to even hear a chicken cluck. The contents may be so absolutely disgusting that I cannot go near another egg, mystery or not. I am not sure that is a wager that I can afford to make.

No one ever explains to you the hard choices you will have to make in life, when you are a child. I am not sure I am adequately prepared for this. I do not consider my parents entirely at fault, but I do vow to you that my child(ren) will be equipped with the tale of the mystery egg. The next generation will be ready...