The Plain Egg Perspective

It’s been a rough week. I have been thinking a lot about the situation on April Fools Day.

Don’t worry – it’s not what you think. I don’t know who bleached my eggs and I never will, but I should have known better than to lash out at any possible hen or human who may have been my friend. I burned bridges and coop ramps with some of but hopefully there are still pieces left standing from which we can begin to re-build – or at least ashes from which we can rise from together.

Now that I have a plethora of plain old white eggs, this week I feel like a new hen. A regular hen, in a regular pen, in a regular world. It’s not always easy having the most beautiful eggs in the whole world. Sure, I love the glamour and the high-paced lifestyle of being a blue egg diva. There are always places to go, people to feed – and I get to look good doing it with free promotional material from Cock-a-Doodle Cosmetics and In-Coop Magazine.

But a delicatessen lifestyle is not all it’s cracked up to be. My eggs make it hard for me to make friends – other hens are jealous or intimidated. Humans are always prying and prodding into my life with their television cameras and omelet cook books. They want to scramble this and boil that. I’m in such high demand that on top of all the appearances, work outs, egg laying and autograph sessions I squeeze into one day, I now have to blog to keep people happy. My international fan base has been going coo-coo. Can humans ever be satisfied? As my Chilean bisabuelita used to say: Beata, people are loco.

A plain-egged world may not be as superstar-side-up or red carpet as I’m used to, but I love my new found perspective as an everyday hen. She works all day, eating plain old corn or feed, fighting for every last grain. She knows not the taste of leftover birthday cake from the break room. She can never cluck enough to get a human to listen to her. Their eyes are fixed upon snatching her eggs, filling their bellies and doing it all again tomorrow. She is isolated from the rest of the big wide world – no school children to say hello or friendly visitors. She’s not even allowed to have rooster friends. Not even for one night out on the town.

I will never forget the lessons learned on 1^st April 2012. Who would have thought a devious game would have fueled my humble enlightenment—and during Holy Week of all weeks! I am a happy mother of these white eggs. They are equal to all colors, blue, green and purple. Equal to striped, glittered and speckled. Come Easter, I will proudly say that I’ll have my eggs plain white and no other way.