Chickens and eggs

I must ask your forgiveness for the following. I just can’t help myself. I’ve tried but to no avail. This is going to be ineggscusably corny and potentially painful.

Our delightfully eggcentric neighbors have just built a chicken coop. First , let me say that I am eggcited to think about eating a warm egg. Now, a friend of mine says he’s never eaten anything BUT a warm egg. How can that be, I asked. You don’t have a chicken coop. He simply said that by the time he’d cooked his egg, it was warm. (Collective groan, here, please.)

Anyway, I am looking forward to this eggceptional addition to the neighborhood. The coop is positioned in an eggstremely secluded part of their yard so the chicks won’t be a problem. (Pity the poor rooster.   Does he know his role in this process is noneggsistent? All that crowing about nothing.)

I gather there will be an eggstended gathering of chickens, names to be determined upon their arrival. They are coming from an eggslempary source so the eggs will be something for us to eggsclaim about, of that I am eggceedingly certain.

I don’t know eggsactly when they are due to arrive but their eggsistance and subsequent production will, no doubt eggceed our fondest hopes and eggspectations. If all goes well, perhaps the tribe will be eggspanded. Who knows?

Now at this point, I am assuming that you wish that I would eggspire, become eggstinct or just plain go away. So I shall. Do you know how many pages there are in the dictionary devoted to words starting with “ex” that offer the opportunity for this to go on and on? I think that I deserve an eggshortation for my self-control (eggsclamation mark here, please.)


P.S. You really didn’t think I was going to go away quite that easily, did you? This has, after all, been an eggsistential egggsperience so eggspediting my eggsit has been a little eggcrutiating….no doubt for all of us.