Goose Eggs Galore!

Where does this story begin? I don't even know!!! We've got some friends here in Hot Springs that are just good ol' folks. You know the kind...homeschool their kids, the man works with his hands, they have several American flag t-shirts (and even button-downs for nice occasions), and real conservative. They've done so much for us and God has really been working in their lives the last year. Somehow, they attained goose eggs...real goose eggs!!! And somehow they approached Beatle about them. Again, I don't know how this came into fruition but next thing I know, Beatle is jazzed about getting these eggs and they are wanting to link up with us about said eggs. I meet them after church in the parking lot, where they pull a foil covered platter out of the ice chest in their Astro van. The boy that's Beatle's age starts joking that she should sit on them if she wants them to hatch and then I'm drug into a rather awkward conversation about the birds and the...ahem, birds with the dad. While flustered, I'm groping for the appropriate word to call male and female geese and then I sputter, "I don't know many foul words." He diffused the situation by cleverly remarking that as a pastor's wife, I shouldn't know foul words. Whew! That was funny and then we were off. I had to get home and get these ginormous eggs in the fridge before we left town on our trip. On the way home, I realized that Beatle really thought she could hatch these eggs from watching "Fly Away Home" several snowdays ago on Netflix. Oh no! I break it to her that from the conversation I could have done without, I learned that there's no way that these can be baby geese. She's still rubbing them, asking if "you are a boy or girl in there?". Then, she starts rubbing them on her cheek and I warn her that it would bother some people to know that they just came out of a goose's po-po! And I'm one of those people. We get home and put them in the fridge and are off on our trip. Meanwhile, Beatle is telling EVERYONE she sees that she has goose eggs. Nobody knows what the heck she is talking about. Nobody really thinks that she has REAL goose eggs.

We start talking to family in OK about these eggs and asking if anyone has ever tried them and then we get on the subject of farm fresh chicken eggs and how I don't think I've ever had them. Next thing I know, my uncle tells me that on our way back to AR, to stop by and he'll have some farm fresh eggs for us. What do you know? When we see my parents, my uncle had dropped off 2 dozen eggs for us to precariously transport back to Arkansas.

I'm getting nervous and my throat gets tight when I get home and start thinking about eating all of these wild eggs. Give me hormone injected, "weaker" tasting eggs anyday...at least I don't get cold sweats thinking about them. I get wiggy about chicken and eggs, in general anyways. But I woman up and make eggs for breakfast but I WILL NOT eat the goose eggs. Beatle is chipper to cook her giant goose egg by herself. The yolk is friggin' huge when she cracks it!! I start yakking and have to step outside under the guise of "sneezing" for Beatle's sake. I love that she's an adventurous eater, I just couldn't be a part of it that morning. The consistency was totally different. She tried it but reluctantly admitted later that day that "it wasn't fabulous". And, after all of the egg endeavors, BR and I couldn't even muster up the courage to eat the chicken eggs...we just stuck with our toast. The babies ate them up though. We've resolved that we're going to use up all of the chicken eggs in things. As for the other two goose eggs, I haven't dealt with them yet. They may wind up in the compost pile.

Birdie fell down a step (or two...) while I was farting with my new phone and has quite a bruised goose egg on her forehead. Bad mommy! If I've accidentally called you and hung up, don't blame me. I didn't get my honeymoon period with my new touchscreen yet.