|main menu | youngsters categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools|
|Timmy and the Easter Egg (standard:other, 2365 words)|
|Author: Pitter Pat||Added: Apr 16 2003||Views/Reads: 2237/1180||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|An Easter story about an Easter egg, a lady, a farmer, and a little boy named Timmy.|
WHOA! What a feeling! It feels like someone just blew my insides out! Wait a minute... someone just did! How dare that sweet old lady who picked me up out of the barnyard blow my insides out! This egg had big plans. Momma Duck was proud of me and told me I would make the biggest and best omelet the farmer had ever tasted. I wanted to make her proud. Now I'm nothing but an old brown shell. Wait a minute. That tickles. Ya, ya, that spot over there. Ohh... That feels so good. What is she doing to me? I hope she continues. It feels like she is putting something on me. It smells like that stuff the farmer put on the shed yesterday. I think they called it paint. Whatever it is, it feels velvety smooth and warm on my shell. COOL! She just painted eyes on me. Now I can see so much better. What a sweet smile this lady has. Hey, I can see myself in her glasses. She has painted beautiful curly swirls of purple, blue, and green to look like hair and the most beautiful brown eyes. They look just like her eyes. What's that? She just gave me tiny ears; I can hear things so much better now. What a beautiful voice, she is singing, “A-maz-ing grace, how swee-t the sound...” How right she is, her voice is the sweetest sound I've ever heard. What is she doing now? Oh! I have a nose. It's small and round. I can smell the paint much better now. I hope I won't smell like this forever, I stink. BANG! What was that? The farmer peered over her shoulder. “Breakfast is going to be late again?” he asked smiling. “That has to be your prettiest egg yet.” I could feel the big smile she was painting on my face come to life. “Yes, this is a very special egg. It will be for little Timmy. As for your breakfast, it will be worth waiting for. The insides of this egg will make a lot of your favorite omelet.” I quickly looked to direction she had nodded and saw a pretty flowered the bowl with my insides in it. HURRAY! I can still make Momma Duck proud by being the biggest and best omelet the farmer has every had! I barely noticed as she dabbed an extra spot of purple paint to cover the small hole in the top of me. “I'll let it dry before I write Timmy's name on it and put a small note for him into the bottom hole. Breakfast will be ready before you know it.” I watched as the lady quickly made my insides into a big omelet. She sprinkled small bits of ham on my insides, chunks of fresh onion, a dash salt, two dashes of pepper, and lots of freshly grated cheese. After it was finished, she and the farmer sat at the table eating the omelet and admired me. I felt so special. When the farmer had finished and got up to leave, he gave his wife a big kiss and told her I was the best omelet he had ever eaten. I blushed with pride. I wish Momma Duck were here and could have heard the farmer thought I was the best omelet and the prettiest eggshell. The pretty lady did the breakfast dishes then returned to finish me. She touched up my paint in a couple of places and wrote TIMMY in big deep purple letters across my back. She took a small purple piece of paper, carefully wrote something on it, and slowly pushed in into my open hole leaving the note sticking out just a tiny bit so someone could pull it out again. She then moved me to the freezer top where, to my surprise, there were many more blown and painted eggs. They had brilliant colors of red, yellow, orange, blue, green, and purple, but I could tell why the farmer thought I was the prettiest. I had special swirls and a face much more realistic looking than any other. I tried to say hi to a couple of the eggs beside me, but they would not answer me. What a stuck up bunch of shells. Time went quickly and soon it was evening. The farmer returned, came over to the freezer, and inspected all of us eggs. When his kind Click here to read the rest of this story (172 more lines)
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Pitter Pat has 20 active stories on this site.
Profile for Pitter Pat, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.