An Egg at the park.I was taking a walk around Buck Creek in Ohio, when I was about six years old. In the grass I spotted a freshly laid egg. I knew not what kind of egg it was, but I still put it in my pocket. There it was safe and warm. My grandparents knew nothing about what I had in my pocket.
In The car on the way home, I brought the egg out. My grandma told me that one of the hens had a nest and I could attempt to hatch the egg. I thought she was joking, but I remembered being viciously attacked by a clucky hen the day before. Well, I took her advice and put the egg under the hen when we got home.
The hen cared for her oversized egg just as any loving mother would do. She turned it, and kept it warm under her layers of grey brown feathers. It was one week later I got the sad but exiting news.