Green Egg

After relieving myself of yesternight’s debauchery I groggily walked back to my bedroom early Saturday morning when Caleb, age 4 followed. In the background I could hear his grandmother yell for him to ‘come back here, and leave me alone’. But Caleb, stubborn as always wouldn’t listen, instead he was determined to tell me something.

With shrill excitement he exclaimed, “We’re going to go on a Easter Egg hunt today!!!!”

I stopped, looked down and tried to match his enthusiasm, “Really?! Are you excited?”

Nearly bursting out of his skin, his big blue eyes widened and he said, “YES!”

“Cool, well are you going to bring me back an egg?” I inquired.

With a definitive movement he lifted his hand, pointed at me and said, “Yup. I’m going to bring you a green egg!”

“I can’t wait!” I beamed.

And with that he turned and ran back to his grandma.

A few hours later Caleb returned from his easter egg hunt with a brown paper bag in hand. I can only assume the bag was a nice crisp new bag he received to put his candy in. But, by the time he had opened the bag a half a million times to look at his candy and to feel all the pieces sourround his little fingers, his bag, crinkled and wadded at the top looked not unlike something a whino uses to conceal his latest bottle of hooch in. I laughed, Caleb the little whino.

I smiled and asked “Did you get a lot of candy?”


Hoping he hadn’t forgotten, “Did you get me my green egg?”

“Ah huh”

His hand dove into the tattered bag and pulled it out.

“Is this is it? This is my green egg?”

Ebulliently he smiled, “Yes!”

What he handed me was this,

I woke up this morning thinking about Caleb and how funny he was with the whole thing. What surprised me was when he came back from the hunt he was trying to share his candy with everyone, which usually is not a prominent attribute of a 4-year-old. It made me think back 20 years ago when I lived in Idaho on the farm. A few times we had Easter egg hunts, but they weren’t really egg hunts so much as they were ‘find the whole basket’ hunts. And since it was on a farm my Grandpa made good use of the scenery and machinery to hide our baskets.

I remember spotting my basket on top of the swather.

My Grandpa chuckles,
“Well git up thar boy! If you want that basket yer gonna have to traverse them thar swather blades, if you fall and impale yourself on one of them blades, well tough sh*t, at least yer getting candy out of it.”

My sister’s basket was hanging high from a tree limb.

Spitting tobaccy on the early morning soil my Grandpa tells her, “If you can’t reach it, it’s time you learned how to climb a tree. If you fall and break yer arm, well tough sh*t, at least yer getting candy out of it.”

………or something like that.


  1. Phil said,

    April 16, 2006 @ 5:07 pm

    Nerds that you won’t share!

  2. Anthony B. said,

    April 16, 2006 @ 5:28 pm

    Now, please dont’ think I am an idiot for asking this..
    Wait, thats impossible for you NOT to think that, but here goes anyway..
    Who is Caleb?
    Ok, now that you are going to get back to me with a huge snotty comment about how could I now know who Caleb is, I will go and hide in a corner and just wait for the answer…

    ABC signing out..

  3. Micah said,

    April 16, 2006 @ 5:52 pm

    Uhh,,, you should be ashamed.
    Y’know Tiffany’s son? CALEB? Did you also know she has a 7 year old daughter too?

  4. normaljean said,

    April 16, 2006 @ 8:03 pm

    You should get a nerds rope and beat that kid for not bringing you an actual green egg like he promised!


    Jusssst kiddin’! Cute story. :)

    And your Grandpa sounds awesome.

  5. Momma said,

    April 17, 2006 @ 4:29 pm

    And you, by G–, better get yar a– up that thar machinery part and get that basket if you want any candy. Cause you don’t want any sons-of-b—— to get any, do ya???

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