Posted in baby chicks, Eggs, humor, Uncategorized

Which Came First–the Egg or the Chicken?

Before meeting a friend at the theater last Friday evening, I stopped by a market for a pear. While washing it off in the back of the store, a pair brought a carton of eggs to the clerk’s attention. They said, “We bought this, not realizing the eggs were fertile. Could we return it for a different kind?”

I asked what fertile meant. The clerk said it meant the eggs could hatch.

Was I surprised! I’ve bought that kind many times. Little did I know that instead of my usual scrambled eggs, I could have had half a dozen baby chicks running around my place.

Eggs, you just don’t know what they’re cracked up to be.



I am a rather obscure 14th C. poet, whose work has been translated into over thirty dialects of gibberish. I now spend my days translating from the gibberish into English and back again, as need be.

6 thoughts on “Which Came First–the Egg or the Chicken?

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