Confession #72
When I was about 7, a neighbor gave me a beautiful Easter egg. I didn't want to eat it, because it was so pretty. I put it in my fanny pack for safe keeping and threw it in my closet. Of course, my closet was always a disaster. Over the summer, my mom made me clean out my closet. There was a funky smell that I could not describe. Finally, I found my fanny pack and remembered the egg. It was unrecognizable. I promised myself I would never do anything like that again. About an hour later, my mom was looking for the egg she had left on the counter to make cornbread. I was heading upstairs with it wrapped in a blanket, hoping I could get it to hatch soon.